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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554759">Everything is Blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat1003/pseuds/kitkat1003'>kitkat1003</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>LEGO Monkie Kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt No Comfort, MK is going through it as is everyone else, Psychological Horror, a mess, also it might not show up in fic form bc I'm drawing comics for this on tumblr, eventual comfort but like, it takes a while, love our boy!, possession aus are fun!, sad dad wukong hours, what happens when you mix an easily to please and manipulate child with an ancient demon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:28:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat1003/pseuds/kitkat1003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>MK just wants everyone in his life to be safe and happy, to never leave him.  He'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.<br/>And, luckily for him, the voice in his head has the perfect plan to make that happen.</p><p>(Or, the author contemplates how slow the possession was for DBK in episode 10 and considers how MK would fall)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. His pills, his hands, his jeans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a 13k monolith of a first chapter, but I'm very proud of how it turned out!  I threw it together in 4 days with the help of my beta reader @imnotcameraready on tumblr, famous for the Chivalry is Dead sanders sides au.  Give it a read, it's on Ao3!  It even has a sequel!  Also, follow me @kitkat1003 and you'll find designs for the characters in this au, including a possessed MK design.  anyway, happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When MK knocks the canisters off of DBK’s back, he thinks that’s the end of it.  He wasn’t exactly given the rundown on how the cannisters worked, nor does he know why whatever was in them caused DBK to go crazy, but at the very least he only had to fight the one guy instead of the entire family. It was weird to fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> Red Son and Princess Iron Fan (shouldn't she be Queen, at this point?  She's married to Demon Bull </span>
  <em>
    <span>King,</span>
  </em>
  <span> after all. Do they not have the paperwork?) but not unwelcome. He wishes they could be on the same side all of the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he was raised on stories of Monkey King’s adventures, which frequently discuss the Demon Bull Family, and he’s always thought they were interesting in those stories.  He thinks Princess Iron Fan is super cool, even though she’s scary and actively wants him dead.  Red Son is...well, he wasn’t what MK expected, but that isn’t exactly a bad thing.  If anything, MK thought he’d be older.  He doesn’t understand how demon aging works.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tangents aside, he watches them disappear in a gust of wind and groans, flopping forward as he bemoans the fact that they left </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he’d just beat them.  Well, he hadn’t actually fought all three of them, this time.  DBK had fought more people than he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumps as the cave begins to crumble from all the damage that it took from the fight, scrambling to find a way out, when—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A New Vessel?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice curls into his ear, a soft whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Young.  Powerful.  Weak.  </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Freedom</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks down, and he sees a white light sink into his skin.  Cold seeps into his every pore, bone, and nerve, his muscles tensing as the temperature drops.  His teeth chatter, and when he lets out a startled breath he sees white air drift in front of his face.  The warmth of his powers—his Monkey King powers—is smothered, and soon all MK feels is the cold that keeps him in place, rooting him to the spot.  It’s a miracle he’s even standing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is this?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What’s happening?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes dart to the cannisters.  The empty canisters.  There was something in there, earlier, right? Where did it go?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is this?  Wher e it w  e n    t?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wha t   i  s  . .   .  ?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to think.  His thoughts are newly cracked ice upon a lake, pieces crashing slowly against each other and fracturing further, splintering into nothingness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>New Vessel.  Rest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes slide shut, out of his control, as his consciousness, like everything else, is smothered by the chill.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He wakes up on the shoulder of the Monkey Mech, as the last rays of sun are streaking across the steadily darkening sky, like a lighthouse beam against the dark sea.  He sits up, staring far into the horizon, as confusion pulls him out of the just woken up daze.  How did he get here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK?” He jumps, startled, and turns to realize that Mei is right next to him, a concerned smile on her face.  He stares at her, trying to figure out why she’s here, how she got here.  Then again, he doesn’t even  know how</span>
  <em>
    <span> he </span>
  </em>
  <span>got here.  He feels dizzy just trying to remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright, kid?” Pigsy’s voice comes from his other side, and he forces himself not to jump, turning to look at his boss.  Tang and Sandy are there too, and Sandy waves while Tang smiles in greeting mid slurp, bowl of noodles in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” he’s missing time.  He defeated DBK, and then...then nothing.  There’s a feeling of coldness, at the thought, but the memories don’t come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found you on the ground after the Bull Clones all sort of fell apart. I figured you passed out after trouncing DBK, so I picked you up and got you out of there.” Mei doesn’t seem concerned, but MK is, just a little.  He’s never passed out after using his powers; rather, using them often results in him getting an energy boost.  He thinks back on it, trying to remember any time this has happened before.  Macaque comes to mind but even then he wasn’t tired once his powers returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His ruminating on the ordeal is cut off by a bowl of noodles being shoved unceremoniously into his hands.  He blinks down at it, and then turns to Pigsy  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, kid.  Eat. You look pale, and skinny as ever.  Can’t have my employee lookin’ half starved.” He smiles at Pigsy’s attempt to hide his soft side, picking up his chopsticks with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eats, and the loud conversations of what they’d just accomplished arrests MK’s attention so that the questions about DBK, the cannisters, the voice that he swears he can hear in the back of his mind, fall away like sand in an hourglass, time never able to be reclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun finally vanishes and stars dot the sky like sequins on a gown.  MK curls in on himself, hunched over the bowl a little, missing the sun's rays and the finished soup’s warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivers, but there’s no breeze.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The bonus of living in such a technologically advanced age is that city reconstruction is pretty fast. Hospitals are rebuilt first, people are brought in en masse. MK spends his time volunteering there, because noodle shops are low on the list of things to be rebuilt and he needs to be useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK tries not to be too guilty about the wreckage, though most of it had occurred because he was late to stop DBK. He'd been kept at Flower Fruit Mountain for a few weeks because Monkey King was worried after the incident with Macaque. Wanted to be sure MK's training ethic wasn't too messed up, wanted to be certain Macaque hadn't left any lasting effects or impressions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a punishment, MK knows, for being a two timing student and for making Monkey King have to deal with a demon enemy when he’s made it clear that he’s retired. Doesn't matter that they only ever trained in the morning and early afternoon, then spent the rest of the day hanging out. MK has watched </span>
  <b>
    <em>Monkey King: The Animated Series</em>
  </b>
  <span> fifty-</span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span> times now, most recently with Monkey King during the duration of his solitary confinement at Flower Fruit Mountain. They'd both piped up with commentary, MK about the production and animation, and Monkey King about the inaccuracies that MK filed away for his sketchbook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even so, it was a punishment for MK’s failings. Why else would Monkey King keep MK close, keep him away from his family and friends, keep MK away from the outside world?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes two and a half weeks after the battle with DBK for MK to go back to work delivering noodles. He'll sometimes buy extra and drop it off at a random hospital nearby, for the medical staff. They're overworked because of him, because he was away for so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to be better next time. He doesn't know when DBK will be back, doesn’t know how to sense him. Is he able to do that? Can he learn to sense when his enemies are nearby? That would solve a lot of problems, near rid him of worry. Maybe Monkey King knows?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That thought has him swinging by Flower Fruit Mountain on the weekend, with a promise to Pigsy to be home before midnight.  MK is an adult only by age, after all; Pigsy still treats him like the 16 year old he found half dead outside his shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he steps onto the mountain’s sand, though, he feels unwelcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mystic energy that had beckoned him in the first time he’d arrived has shut its doors, like a silent way of saying </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Leave</em>
  </b>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a single monkey comes to greet him, but he can see their eyes, hidden in the trees. They regard him with suspicion. He frowns at them in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears a hiss in the back of his head and winces at the ensuing headache, stepping forward in hopes of pushing past the pain. Every step he takes makes the pounding in his head louder and more painful, and MK closes his eyes and focuses, reaching for the well of power he knows he has, the power that makes the staff feel lighter than air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like sticking his hand through a well of ice, and his wrist is paralyzed by the time his fingers brush that warmth, the light curling around his palm.  Gold sparkles in his vision, and the unwelcome air starts to recede, as if the island recognizes him again.  He heads in deeper, and lets out a breath as the headache ceases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to head in too deep, because Monkey King comes through the waterfall in a rare moment of MK’s mentor leaving the inner sanctum of the mountain.  The waterfall itself moves like a curtain out of Monkey King’s way and the sight has MK focusing on that rather than the expression on Monkey King’s face, until he looks up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King’s eyes are sharp, darting around, an expression MK only recognizes from the suspicion and distrust Monkey King gave Macaque.  MK fidgets beneath that gaze, though it isn’t directed at him, uncomfortable.  He hasn’t done anything wrong, has he?  He wracks his brain for any new missteps, but finds very little.  Still, his anxiety skyrockets by the second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look vanishes, though not completely, when Monkey King’s eyes catch on the sight of MK.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey bud!  Impromptu visit?” Monkey King greets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK tries not to shy away from the air of suspicion that colors Monkey King’s tone.  Is MK really that untrustworthy? He did mess up badly by trusting Macaque, and Monkey King is right to distrust him.  He bites his lip and tries to ignore the swell of guilt that sets like a stone in his stomach at the memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just-uh-just wanted to train, y’know?  Don’t know when DBK is coming back.” He shrugs, and Monkey King nods, only half listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still looks on edge. “Cool.  You uh...you bring anyone with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that’s concerning. MK scrambles to find a supposed intruder, hands gripping his staff tight in preparation for battle. “No?  Unless-Oh no, is there someone here?  Is it a demon guy?”  What if he led a bad guy here?  What if he messed up </span>
  <em>
    <span>again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumps as a monkey lands on his head, picking through MK’s hair in typical grooming fashion, and then Monkey King laughs, loud and almost relieved.  MK turns back around to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, must be my nerves.  Maybe DBK left something on you, messed with my senses.” Monkey King waves a hand, nonchalant, and MK perks up in ease at the reminder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  That’s actually why I’m here!” He takes careful steps forward, trying not to jostle the monkey on his head.  “I was thinking-I didn’t know DBK was in the city and destroying stuff, and a lot of people got hurt.  But!  If I could sense him, like you can, I could stop him quicker!  Right?” He’s bouncing on his toes, nervous and excited all at once, and Monkey King smiles down at him fondly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, why not?  If you’re up for some meditation, that is,” Monkey King turns, waving at MK to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The monkey on MK’s head hops away, and MK sprints after his mentor with a wide grin.  “Totally!  I’m, like, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>at meditation.  I’m like a meditation wizard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King laughs all the way to the training grounds.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Training actually is easier than he expects.  MK blusters a lot, but he isn’t dumb or unaware of his limits.  Sitting still isn’t his strong suit, so sitting still while not being able to talk, tap, fidget, or do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything else</span>
  </em>
  <span> other than </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> is basically torture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, when he gets into the meditative position with Monkey King, something clicks.  A cool blanket settles on his shoulders, eases out the desire to move.  It’s so easy to be still, and quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frozen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t kidding,” Monkey King tells him, and MK grins a little, face warmed by the praise.  “Now, when you’re like this, you have to let every other sound and feeling fade out.  Nothing else matters but the energies around you.  Mine’s pretty easy to see cause, yknow,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK can practically see Monkey King scratching his chin and grinning with barely hidden pride.  “I’m a pretty powerful guy.  DBK would be similar, he’s got a pretty loud aura too.  Now, just try it, kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK nods, and takes a deep breath.  The sounds around him-bugs, monkeys jumping around and talking to one another, the wind, the ever present sound of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his head—those all start to fade away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, what was that last one?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets them all go, and then forgets the feeling of the cold, the grass, the fabric touching his skin.  Nothing exists except his own mind, and then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets to see the bright light that is Monkey King.  Golden and red and royal in its feel, it’s near blinding.  He has to blink a few times to get used to its light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah,” he murmurs, and Monkey King opens one eye, before blinking both in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, already?  You sure you haven’t done this before?” Monkey King crosses his arms over his chest, almost offended, and MK is reminded of how betrayed Monkey King looked when MK had shown off the skills he’d learned from Macaque.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope!  Maybe defeating DBK gave me a confidence boost?”  He shrugs, and then stands, looking around.  Monkey King’s expression sits in the back of his mind, and MK bites his lip.  “Did I, uh, did I do something wrong?  I didn’t…,” he trials off, worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Monkey King mumbles in response to his first reply, mostly to himself.  “Oh-no, no, you’re fine, bud.  I think I’m just a little paranoid,” he laughs it off.  MK is too busy glancing back towards town to process Monkey King’s pensive expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see Mei!  She’s...very green.  Did she always have a dragon?” It’s curled around her, like a protective barrier, snarling and poised to strike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King chuckles. “You’ve got yourself some powerful friends, kid.  Not surprising.  Like knows like, even when they don’t know what like is.” He puts a hand on MK’s shoulder, and then starts.  “You’re freezing.  It’s not that cold, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK blinks a few times, and everything comes back, the colors and sounds and feelings of the world returning to normal.  Monkey King keeps looking at him, as if MK is a puzzle he’s yet to solve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, maybe?  I’ve been feeling a bit chilly, lately.  Maybe I’m coming down with something?” He’s been a bit stressed out, between Macaque and DBK and the reconstruction, and he’s heard stress can cause illnesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King sighs, after a moment, and scratches his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m becoming an adult,” he says, like it’s a crime, and he shrugs again.  “You’re probably fine.  Just, take it easy the next few days, alright?  Practice meditating at home, or when you’re on the job.  When you’re as good as me, you can turn it on whenever you need to,” Monkey King puffs up with pride, and his tail swings back and forth leisurely.  MK watches his tail more than he listens to what Monkey King is saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.  Anything else for today?” It’s only been an hour or two, they have plenty of time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King deliberates.  Then, he grins, stepping back to position for MK’s inevitable first attack. “Tell you what.  We’ll spar for a bit, and then you can bring up that new show you kept ranting about a few weeks ago.  Kay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK’s eyes sparkle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heck yeah!”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>MK’s muscles aren’t sore when he gets home.  He actually lasted a couple minutes sparring this time around, and Monkey King had rewarded him with peach chips and an arm around MK’s shoulder as he eagerly pulled up the show he had dove into during his free time on the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy sent him upstairs with a bowl of noodles and a stern reminder to sleep early so he wouldn’t be late for work. He finishes the noodles in record time and, once he has showered and put on his warmest pajamas, pulls out all of the blankets he can find.  He just wants to be warm, just a little, even though it doesn’t make sense that he’s feeling this cold.  He’s not tired, he doesn’t feel achy, his sinuses are clogged—none of the other symptoms of being sick are popping up, so why is he so cold?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s practically buried in blankets by the time he feels comfortable enough to rest.  For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things go back to normal, somewhat.  There’s a niggling something in the back of his head, and there’s guilt and the ever present chill that has MK wearing long sleeved shirts, but otherwise MK falls back into his typical routine, which is nice.  He missed his friends, between Macaque and DBK and training.  It’s good to see them again.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The first time he starts hearing the voice in his head, he’s getting yelled at by Pigsy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t happen as often, anymore.  MK is scatterbrained, but he genuinely tries to do his best at work.  Sometimes, he gets mixed up, because he’s only one kid and he’s never been good at focusing, no matter how hard he tries.  It’s hard for his stressed out and ADHD ridden brain to remember whose order is whose, especially when it’s the dinner rush and he’s running behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was a particularly bad day.  He’d accidentally given a customer an order with peanut oil in it, when they had an order specifically without peanuts due to their severe allergy.  Pigsy had gotten a very angry phone call, and he passed that rage at MK, rightfully so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK can only apologize so much, so eventually he quiets and lets Pigsy let off steam.  Luckily the customer hadn’t tried to sue, but MK knows the review Pigsy likely got was scathing.  He deserves a bit of a tongue lashing for that, he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was an honest mistake.  Cruel, to yell at one so young.  Why is he so mean?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice in the back of his head, new and different, nearly makes MK jump.  Pigsy notices the change in MK’s expression and mistakes it for fear, and that gets him to quiet down.  He dismisses MK with a sigh and a wave of his hand, and MK heads upstairs, feeling guilty and confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That voice….it didn’t sound like him, did it?  When he tries to recall the sound, it mirrors his internal voice, but in the moment it seemed different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s probably nothing.  After all, if something was wrong with him, wouldn’t someone else have noticed by now? Wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> have noticed by now?</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The voice keeps popping up at random intervals, random moments.  When Mei gets annoyed at his ramblings.  When Tang pushes him away when he’s begging for a story, because Tang is busy eating.  When Pigsy yells at him for being late for work, for messing up.  When Sandy awkwardly pushes him to leave because MK can’t take a hint, some days.  When Monkey King looks at him with something akin to disappointment, exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re tired of you.  They want you gone.  They’re plotting against you.  They’re going to betray you!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And, see, that would bother MK if he didn’t already </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that.  He knows people don’t like him, find him annoying.  He knows he pushes too much, messes up a lot, misses social cues.  He knows that he’s not a good enough successor.  And that just makes him want to do better.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As for the whole betrayal thing, plotting against him, it makes sense.  He isn’t offended or anything if they are, in fact he’d be more surprised if they weren’t, you know?  He’s the Monkey King’s successor.  He has all of the powers, has all of the strength and invincibility, with a caveat or two, but he’s also still just a teenager.  If they aren’t worried that he could go rogue, mess up and decide to be selfish, then that’s stupidity on their part.  Trusting him with anything is never a good idea, so knowing that, should he mess up, his family will be able to enact swift justice is a comfort rather than a worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing, knowing just how annoying and useless he can be.  He flinches more often at their glares, gets quieter.  He doesn’t want to make them mad at him, he doesn’t want to lose them because he isn’t good enough.  He just needs to focus, be better, help out more often.  If he does that, hopefully they won’t leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice, after a few months or so, had backed off for a week.  He’d felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and smiling was easier.  Pigsy had seemingly relaxed at his good mood, and Mei seemed cheerier when they’d gone out to the arcades.  He hadn’t realized he’d been worrying them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you so sure they’ll stay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A single phrase that pulls the rug out beneath MK’s feet.  He knows he isn’t good enough, but everyone knows that he at least tries, right?  That should endear them to him enough for him to prove he’s worth their time, right?  He can be good enough, he can do better, he just needs time!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not fast enough.  They’ll get tired of you, and then they’ll leave.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold feeling in his chest feels so much heavier, as he panics in his room.  He’s supposed to be asleep, but the blankets don’t do much anymore.  He’s losing feeling in his fingers.  He keeps fumbling with things, even the staff, and everyone is getting annoyed at him.  And he’s so tired, all the time, and yet it’s so hard to sleep.  He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but he knows that whatever it is, it’s going to ruin the equilibrium he has between being a failure and being good enough to keep around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What happens when he loses it all?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can be better.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Can he?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wouldn’t everyone love you if they were safe?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he can imagine not having to worry about DBK would make them far less stressed out.  If he can do that, then maybe they won’t get so easily annoyed at him.  He knows stress can make people snappy, and there’s a lot to be stressed about, like the economy and death by demons.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can make them safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>How?  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And MK knows it’s weird to make a pact with your own mind, but he thinks he’s pretty good at following directions, so he nods, and doesn’t sleep at all.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The plan isn’t an easy one, and MK doesn’t know if he really wants to follow it.  The words turn over and over in his head. He doesn’t know if they’re right or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it would be better, if he wasn’t so nice.  He beats the bad guys, sure, but he isn’t that violent with them.  They try to kill him, but it’s never personal.  He’s the successor to Monkey King, it just makes sense that they’d go after him.  He’s not upset, really!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though the calabash has him looking over his shoulder.  They have earthquakes a lot, they live near a ring of active volcanoes, and each one puts him on edge, expecting a lie to turn his whole world apart. And the spider lady tried to eat his friends, tried to kill him.  And Macaque nearly hurt Monkey King because MK let him get close.  And DBK and Princess Iron Fan won’t stop, not until they get revenge or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red Son is...he’s MK’s age.  And MK has noticed just how much DBK and Princess Iron Fan belittle Red Son, and he’s their son.  It’s too familiar for MK’s liking, and it makes the desire to bring Red Son to justice lessen.  Maybe, if he got Red Son’s parents out of the way…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You could have anything you wanted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>All MK wants is for his friends and family to be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is how you’ll do it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK doesn’t give in.  Not yet.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>MK considers it when he goes over to see Sandy, one afternoon.  They’re just doing some leisurely painting practice, nothing like painting the whole boat.  After the whole clones thing, Sandy had learned that he should probably figure out which color he wants to stick with in the long run before asking for help in such a task.  So, he asks MK to come over and brainstorm.  You know, sketch out some ideas, test paint samples on different areas of the boat, see how it looks in light and dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK also helps with the many litter boxes around the ship, as well as top up the water and food bowls all around.  He gets appreciative nuzzles from the myriad cats around the barge, so it isn’t so bad.  Then, he and Sandy will have tea, and Sandy will listen to MK ramble on about anything and everything until either Monkey King or Pigsy or Mei calls him to go do something (he gave Monkey King his number.  Occasionally he will get an incomprehensible text.  He’s pretty sure Monkey King has a Nokia phone).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, when they’re having tea, MK considers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sandy?” He starts, more hesitant than when he’s ever asked the man a question before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandy notices, and MK sees him soften his pose even more, looking warm and welcoming. “Yeah, MK?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m too soft on villains?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he beats them, but he always lets them leave, lets them escape.  They get to heal, recoup, and come back stronger every time, and people get hurt.  MK doesn’t want to be the type to attack first, to never ask questions, but at this point there aren’t too many questions to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got a good heart, MK.  You don’t have it in ya to go at ‘em too hard,” MK clenches his fist, his other hand gentle against the teacup lest he break it.  He did that a few times when he first got his powers, unused to the extra strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>kinda</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t answer my question,” MK tries not to say it through gritted teeth.  He can feel his tea getting frigid, and bites back the burst of white air that would make Sandy ask questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t know how to answer questions about that, which is why he can’t deal with them.  That’s the reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s saying you’re weak.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK hides a grimace, and lets his heart ache silently.  He sips the tea.  It’s ice cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brought this on?” Sandy asks, instead of answering the question, which grates on MK’s nerves more than it should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I let DBK get too powerful,” he says.  “He destroyed the city </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and people got </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  If I’d just </span>
  <em>
    <span>got rid of him</span>
  </em>
  <span> before, those people would be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandy sighs, taking a sip of his tea.  A cat hops into MK’s lap, curling up, but after a few frigid moments hops away.  Apparently MK is too cold for its liking.  He tries not to get offended by that, but the hot well of shame and longing persists. At least the feeling is warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK, you’re still learning.  Mistakes are bound to happen.  Those who got hurt will get better, and the city is rebuilt better than ever!  You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders.  And,” Sandy looks away, and suddenly he looks a lot older than MK thinks he is.  “Honestly, being too harsh to make an enemy stop can feel good in the moment, but it does more harm than good, especially to the person who does the fighting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And MK leaves it at that, but thinks he doesn’t mind if it harms him, if it keeps everyone else safe.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Another story!” MK begs, spinning on the barstool.  Pigsy always tells him not to, something about wearing down the seat joint, but at the same time Pigsy never really stops MK when he does it either, because MK only does it when he’s very excited and hyper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tang finishes his bowl of noodles with a chuckle, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose in a practiced motion that MK is oh so familiar with.  MK taps the front of his sketchbook with his pencil impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright.  Tell you what, I’ll tell you the story of the Baigujing, or White Bone Spirit,” Tang’s voice falls into storyteller mode, and MK is immediately entranced.  Pigsy, from the kitchen, slams down a pan and groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that one, Tang.  I hate that one, you know that,” MK turns to his boss and is surprised to see an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.  What in this story would Pigsy have to be embarrassed about?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, MK wants to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Monkey King stories.  I’m not going to rob him of knowledge,” Tang argues back.  He leans close to MK and whispers “Pigsy couldn’t sleep for a week after I told him this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> true!” Pigsy barks, indignant, and MK laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tang chuckles to himself, and Pigsy turns back to his work with a grumble.  Right now is a lull in business, right after the lunch rush and before early dinners get called in, so MK is taking his break and Pigsy isn’t too upset by it.  It’s just enough time for a story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.  The Baigujing was a shapeshifting demon, who saw Monkey King and his group of traveling companions as they passed by.  Her eyes caught on the human monk, Tang Sanzang,” MK perks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, that’s like your name!” he points out, and both Tang and Pigsy look startled.  Tang coughs, awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes-well-uh, it’s a family name,” he amends quickly.  MK tilts his head to the side.  “Anyway, she decided she wanted to taste the monk’s flesh.  So, she disguised herself as a little girl, coming up to the group and offering them poisoned fruits.  Because she was so powerful, only Monkey King could sense her treachery, and he hit her with his staff, seemingly killing her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK gasps, doesn’t understand the fury that builds behind his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tang glances at him, for a moment, and then jumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK?  You okay?” He asks, and MK blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-yeah!  What happened next?” Tang looks him over, gaze catching on MK’s eyes, before he sighs and continues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Monkey King’s companions were shocked and appalled.  They thought he had killed an innocent girl!  He tried to explain, but they didn’t believe him.  The Monk buried the girl, who turned back into the spirit.  She tried again, once as the supposed mother of the little girl, and then the grandfather.  Monkey King managed to show her as a skeleton spirit during their last encounter, clearing his name, but then his companion, Bajie, told Sanzang that Monkey King made it up.  Thus, Monkey King was abandoned, at least until the Monk was captured by a demon Wujing and Baijie couldn’t defeat, and Bajie had to apologize to bring him back,” Tang finishes, and MK’s face settles into a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bajie’s a jerk!” He crosses his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>apologized</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Pigsy mumbles, from his place in the kitchen, where he slices scallions violently.  “More than once.  Not that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>matters</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monkey King didn’t exactly endear himself to his peers,” Tang amends.  “Perhaps if he had been less full of himself at the time, they all could have gotten along better.  But, all four grew to be better people by the end of their journey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK finishes a sketch of the scenes Tang had described with a flourish, and he tilts his head to one side.  “Kind of rude to just attack the lady, though, couldn’t he have tried to talk it out?” He doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend the demon, but she doesn’t seem too bad.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tang makes a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wanted to eat a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>, MK,” he says, and MK makes a face that mirror’s Tang’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.  Eugh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gross</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Anyway, thanks Mr. Tang!” he hops off the barstool and puts back on his collared shirt, making sure his headband doesn’t slip down.  “Any orders, Pigsy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy jerks his thumb to the few on the counter.  MK picks them up, and continues on to work, the story sitting in the back of his mind.  He stumbles a bit while walking.  He doesn’t feel the key in his hand, his fingers numbed over time.  He should be concerned, but everything else seems fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kind of wishes he could have met the Baigujing.  She doesn’t seem too bad, besides the people eating.  Maybe they could have worked it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who does Sun Wukong think he is, deciding to serve justice anyway he sees fit?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK frowns and buttons up his shirt.  His chest feels like ice.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He’s so, so tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK looks at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and his skin looks paler, his lips a little blue.  He has bags under his eyes that vanish by the time he leaves the bathroom, a bottle of concealer and a tube of lipstick on the bathroom sink that he doesn’t remember buying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His memory’s been growing spottier, too, missing minutes, hours.  Mei talks to him about a high score he beat at the arcade and he nods along, no clue what she’s talking about but not wanting to worry her.  He hasn’t gone to see Sandy in what feels like years, but gets a text from him thanking MK for taking care of the cats one afternoon.  There are sketches in his sketchbook he doesn’t remember drawing, from stories Tang told him that he can’t remember hearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s lost feeling in his hands and feet.  He’s dropped enough bowls of soup for Pigsy to go from mad to worried, and he shoves MK off to Flower Fruit Mountain because it’s warmer there, and MK always looks cold.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbles when he hits sand, nearly bowls over with how much the island rejects him, how much it wants him not to be there.  This is supposed to be a safe place, but the sand feels like needles and the wind slices at his face.  Monkey King comes rushing out like a bat out of hell, teeth bared, but he sees MK, kneeling on the beach, and runs over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, bud?  You look…,” he doesn’t say awful, but MK knows he’s thinking it.  MK looks awful, feels awful,</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span> awful.  And the solution to that is right there, waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to take it because he’s a coward.  The voice in his head gave him an ironclad idea, a perfect plan, and he’s been ignoring it because he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Weak little vessel</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hiss in his ear makes him wince, and he trembles as Monkey King helps him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired,” he manages, leaning against Monkey King because he hardly has the strength to stand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see that.” The try at levity has MK chuckling, but Monkey King is soft and warm and all MK wants to do is suck that warmth into himself, so he can stop being cold for one second.  “Why don’t we head to my place and watch something.  There’s always my show, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK nods, blinking slowly, and Monkey King takes a step forward.  Suddenly, they’re at Monkey King’s house.  When did they get there?  Why are they here again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s set on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something off about your aura, kid.  Touch anything mystic or weird back at home?” Monkey King runs his fingers through MK’s hair, and MK leans into the touch.  Warm.  Safe.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, a full minute after the question is asked.  Monkey King hums in thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you even</span>
  <em>
    <span> see</span>
  </em>
  <span> auras?” MK mumbles, words slurring a bit as he talks.  “Teach me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King’s hand stills, and MK whines a little, prompting his mentor to continue the motions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already have, bud,” Monkey King whispers, more to himself than to MK.  MK blinks in confusion.  He doesn’t remember that.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rest, Vessel.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice whispers so sweetly in his ear.  It’s nice, sometimes.  Mean other times.  MK wonders if that’s his fault.  Is he so bad that even his own head is mad at him?  How can he be better?  He’s trying so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The TV is turned on.  MK doesn’t register the sound, but the light makes him turn his head away.  Monkey King turns down the brightness with his remote.  Another monkey rests on top of MK for a moment, before jumping off.  It shivers at the temperature of MK’s jacket, his skin, and moves over to Monkey King’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK rests his head on Monkey King’s lap, and closes his eyes.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He wakes up in a dream.  He stands on ice.  Each step he takes is careful, lest he slip, and even still he stumbles and fumbles.  He can see something in the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” he calls out, but the person doesn’t answer.  The closer he gets, the more he can make them out.  “Mei?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is her, but then her head drops, straight off of her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>NO!</em>
  </b>
  <span>” MK screams, running to her, and he stumbles and falls.  His knees hit ice and they burn with the chill that sinks through his pants.  He slides to her body, cradling it and her head as if he could put her back together with hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns, looking for a reason for this, and when he looks up, all of the adults in his life are standing around him, their faces covered in shadow.  Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Monkey King—they’re all looking down on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look what you let happen,” Pigsy growls out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s dead,” Tang continues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t save her,” Sandy drones on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You let her die,” Monkey King spits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” MK breathes, and the tears build in his eyes and down his cheeks, freezing on his face.  It burns.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have a choice, vessel.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The figures of his friends vanish into mist, and MK curls his arms around himself.  He misses the contact.  He hates to be alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman wreathed in white kneels down in front of him.  It hurts to look at her, and MK averts his gaze until she tilts up his chin so he can look nowhere else.  Her face is ice cold, yet inviting.  He can’t look away from her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t you want them to stay?  Don’t you want them to be safe?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK nods, quickly.  Of course that’s what he wants.  More than anything, he wants that love, that adoration.  He wants his family to be safe, to never leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You know what to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like ice is creeping up his skin, encasing him in frigidity.  She holds out his hand, and he can do nothing else but take it.  The cold reaches its peak, and suddenly it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  It burns, and yet the warmth is inviting, a relief after months of being so, so cold and confused and tired.  He is past the point of cold, of freezing, of sub zero.  He is warm.  He is ready.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is hers.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He wakes up well rested, and the cold that had settled into him still feels like the burn that is a welcome respite from before.  Monkey King is still asleep, and MK leaves him there, leaving the house and walking slowly out of the inner mountain.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves footprints of ice where he steps.  The monkeys watch, from the trees, trembling as their eyes gaze upon something inhuman, sitting in MK’s skin.  MK has never felt better.  He knows what to do now.  He knows how to make things right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The staff in his hands feels heavier, for a moment, but MK grips it tight and bends it to his will.  He pogos out of the island with ease, letting the wind whip his hair back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t blinked in a while.  He forgot he had to.  He blinks because the wind makes his eyes sting, and touches the ground with a gentleness he didn’t know he could master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets his eyes glow gold, searching.  He remembers, now, how to look at auras.  He remembers a lot of things now.  It’s like the pressing weight of being weak for the sake of niceties has vanished, and now he is sharp and ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only question is which of his enemies does he go after first?  He needs to get all of them, keep them secure.  It’s the only way the town, the city, will be safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The small fry first.  We’ll work our way up to the demon king.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, that makes sense.  MK grins to himself.  It’s so nice to have someone constantly helping, constantly making sure he’s doing the right thing.  He’s useless on his own, but give him a direction and he’ll follow it to the letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can see gold and silver, in the distance.  He forgets their names, at first, but their auras jog his memory.  Yin and Jin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They put him in the calabash.  They weren’t good at it, but they were good enough.  They’re demons.  Dangerous.  He needs to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heads to their home, not in a hurry.  There’s no rush to the inevitable.  Is this what self confidence is?  The feeling of knowing you can do it, that you will do it, that no one can stop you?  It feels very gratifying.  He lets the glow in his eyes vanish, because he doesn’t want to startle everyone around him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes.  A text from Pigsy, demanding to know where he is.  He responds with ‘Dealing with Monkie Kid stuff.  Be back soon!’ and a string of emojis that Pigsy will find incomprehensible, before continuing on his trek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches the door, and hears a conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, our plan has three steps.  That’s an improvement,” Yin seems to be pacing, from what MK can hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Step one, capture the monkie kid,” Jin pipes up, and MK fights back a laugh.  “Step two, take the staff from him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if they could.  MK almost has to admire their tenacity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Step three, take over the world!” Yin finishes, and MK takes that as his cue to step in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knocks in the door.  Polite.  He still has manners, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?  Jin, did you order out for dinner again?” Yin barks out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have the money for that!” Is the response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Yin grumbles, moving to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here they come!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK counts the steps Yin takes to the door, itching with anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Yin opens the door, and then jumps in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” MK waves, and taps his staff on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a thunk; not a thud of a body, but a thunk of a block of ice.  MK pats the statue with a fond look.  He’ll chip away the extra pieces later.  This is his first attempt, it’s normal for it to be less precise.  He can get better at it with practice.  Jin turns, from his place at the desk, and his eyes widen when he sees his brother, frozen on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yin—what did you do?” Red eyes glow dangerously, and MK wonders if they would be more ferocious if he threatened one over the other.  Jin gets up, teeth bared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This,” MK replies, tapping his staff on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jin takes a step forward and freezes in place. Or, is frozen, MK supposes.  He looks at the brothers, safely imprisoned, and wonders.  Where is he going to put them?  There’s not enough room here for all of his enemies to be placed.  What’s a good place to set everything up?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cave?  The old villain hideout?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s perfect!  After all, it would be the funniest form of irony, right?  Turning a villain hideout to his base for his world saving plan.  Gosh, he’s so smart.  Because this is him, all him.  He finally is smart enough to know what to do.  He has to clear out the cave, first.  It’s not far away, hidden beneath the sewers.  There’s a path to it from the area where the staff used to lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets Yin and Jin next to each other, considering their poses.  He thinks they look a little off, but he can fix that, right?  He can fix anything, given enough time.  That’s what all this is, fixing the problem of demons who’ve escaped because of DBK’s release.  He nods to himself, and heads off.  He has rocks to clear out, he has a cave to excavate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, he promised Pigsy that he’d be back soon.  That stops him short.  He can’t skip work!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This will make him far happier in the long run.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, what’s a few hours of work to make Pigsy happy now?  He shakes off the one track mind and puts his staff away.  The ice won’t melt fast (or at all) and he’s got time.  The flash of cold he gets in response to that thought doesn’t inspire comfort, and he second guesses himself a few times, but he heads to the shop anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Pigsy!” he waves, and Pigsy glances at him and jerks a thumb over to the pile of orders on the counter.  “On it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK swoops them up and sets them all on the delivery cart.  Pigsy glances at him again, and then freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK turns, blinking a few times.  “Yeah?” he responds, and Pigsy peers at him, almost suspicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK tilts his head to the side in confusion.  A part of him is glad that he has concealer on, because they don’t have the time to chat about MK’s new skin tone, not with all these orders.  He watches Pigsy shiver, muttering something about the A/C acting up, before Pigsy shakes himself off and sets his hands on his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought-your eyes-nevermind.  Get those orders out!” Pigsy barks, and MK stands at attention, giving Pigsy a salute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it!” He promises, sliding out of the shop and hopping onto the delivery cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only takes an hour, which is much faster than he usually is, but focus comes easy when he’s driven.  The faster he gets this done they faster he gets to get back to his real work.  The work that will make things better for everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. Of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shift ends when the store closes, and he’s gone before Pigsy can say anything about his work ethic or ask where MK has been or is going.  He rushes to the construction site, dives below, rushing past the decaying plants where there once were flowers and a growing tree.  Without Monkey King’s staff, there’s nothing making sure the plants live.  MK frowns at the sight but stays focused on the task at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aim.  The staff can be as large as a mountain if it needs to be.  Crush what’s in your way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods to himself, breaking through the rubble that has blocked off the tunnel.  The ground shakes, the whole underground rumbles with power, and he hopes he’s not keeping anyone up.  Then again, it’s not too bad if it’s just for a night, considering how many nights later he’s going to keep quiet.  Everyone will be able to rest easy once he’s done.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffs a breath, and it comes out white.  He should be concerned, but honestly it looks cool.  He remembers to blink, because his eyes are starting to burn.  He doesn’t know why he keeps forgetting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes his way to the cavern, and uses ice to keep the ceiling up.  Pillars rise, frost fills the spaces between rocks that would have cracked and splintered eventually.  The floor remains untouched, save for when he fills in the cracks that could trip someone up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t remember when he got these ice powers.  They seem new?  Why hasn’t he used them before?  How come Monkey King never told him about them?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Monkey King’s always had ice powers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Has he?  MK isn’t so sure about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re his successor, not a carbon copy.  It makes sense you would have different powers than him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right.  MK nods to himself.  Now, time to get Yin and Jin!  Carrying them is going to be a challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him an hour to get them both there, and another half hour to figure out where to put them.  He has to consider DBK’s size.  Wait, does he have to go and get the spider demon lady?  He shivers at the thought, a deep well of terror sinking in his gut.  Even as self assured as he is now, spiders still terrify him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can take care of that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Really?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.  But first, rest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right.  He needs to head back to his house.  Pigsy will be worried if he doesn’t come home soon.  He heads out of the construction site, skipping all the way home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely sleeps.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The week is certainly a busy one.  MK spends any time not with his friends searching, and he spends far less time with his friends, nowadays.  The spider demon isn’t easy to find.  He does manage to get some small fry lesser demons he hadn’t met before and now never will.  He doesn’t need to meet people who will inevitably try to kill him and those around him.  Far better to prevent the attack than deal with the aftermath thereof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His collection of ice sculptures is growing.  MK likes to spend time chipping away at the blocks to them more polished.  It’s like sketching, in a way, or cleaning up a sketch.  It also gives him an opportunity to practice a more precise use of his ice powers.  He can make a mean ice chisel now, and he’s learned how to force the limbs of those frozen into the position he likes.  Yin and Jin stand on top of each other, like they did in their introduction.  The expressions on their faces aren’t what he likes, but he can cover it with frost and it’s like it was never there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He meets up with Mei, one afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, MK!” She barrels into him, and immediately jumps back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches out, missing the contact, but she shakes out a shiver.  “Dang, you’re cold!” She slugs him on the shoulder, and he laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel fine.  Maybe you’re just being dramatic,” he shoots back, and she laughs with him, before her eyes glance at his face and she freezes.  “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes,” she murmurs, all joking replaced with concern.  He tilts his head to a side in confusion.  “They’re blue?” She adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” he says, and the words that come out of his mouth don’t sound like him at all.  He doesn’t think he thought of them, and he doesn’t feel his lips move but the sound comes out anyway.  “I’m trying out some contacts.  Do you like them?” He bats his eyelashes at her, all in jest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her confusion melts into a smile. “I like your regular eye color better,” She admits.  “But those look cool!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs him by his wrist, using his jacket as a buffer, and drags him to an arcade.  Every machine he touches sticks a little, the joystick and button a tad frozen by his touch, and he doesn’t win a match by any means, but he doesn’t mind.  Every time Mei leans close to him it feels like a victory.  Even though he feels warm, at least a sort of freezer burn warmth, the people around him have pulled away.  He’s too cold for them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs contact.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone trips Mei as they’re running around the arcade.  Her nose bleeds, and MK feels his hackles rising.  Someone hurt his friend.  A demon?  A scan of the area reveals no such thing.  Just a mean person.  He can hear them snickering as they walk away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei is more important than MK’s anger, so he takes her outside and finds some tissues, cleans her up.  He takes her out to her favorite restaurant (not Pigsy’s, though they’ll never tell him that) and they end the night with a race around town.  Her bike is an electric green streak, and he’ll never catch up, but he gives it his all before they finish outside his place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See ya later!” Mei still sounds a bit stuffed up from the nosebleed, and MK waves until she’s out of sight.  When she disappears, his expression shutters, anger against her unrecognizable assailant returning in a flash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been getting rid of demons, but that’s not enough!  Mei still got hurt, because people are unpredictable.  He heads to his room and paces.  How can he fix it, how can he make it better?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe more than demons should be frozen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK stops in his tracks.  Now, there’s an idea.  But to freeze them forever, that seems like too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not forever.  Just until they know how to behave.  Think of it as a pause button.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be nice if things just stopped for a moment.  Then he could have all the time in the world to fix it.  Once he gets the demons out of the way, he can do that.  Then, once everyone learns to behave, they can come out.  However long that takes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can be patient, for his friends.  This is all for them, after all.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>A day after that, and he’s found the Spider Demon’s lair.  Every step he takes inside makes him shake, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take her.  He’s so nervous, so scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can help, remember?  Just take a deep breath.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Close your eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t open them, but they open anyway.  Everything is washed in a soft layer of white, like frost, and his body moves but he doesn’t tell it to.  The fear he felt is muted, and he settles into the comfort of its absence.  He asked for this, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spider demon—</span>
  <em>
    <span>she wanted to be a Queen, right?  MK hadn’t been really paying attention when she went on her rant, too petrified to listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>—skitters out, and when she locks eyes with him, she smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, is the little monkie boy back to play?” She giggles, and MK’s body throws the staff at her.  She ducks with a yelp, and scrambles back.  “Ooo, we’re rough, now?  Seems you’re not so scared anymore,” She purrs, but he can hear the nervousness in her voice as the staff comes back to his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Iͥ ʷgͣˢoᶰtͤ ͮoͤvͬeˢrͨ ͣiͬtͤᵈ.” The sound comes out of his mouth, and it doesn’t sound much like MK at all.  Huh.  His body takes a step forward, and ice spreads out from beneath his foot.  “Tͭuͧrͬᶰnˢs ͦoͧuͭtʸ,ͦ ͧyˢoͪuͦ'ͧˡrͩe ͪnͣoͮtͤ ᵇtͤhͤᶰeʷ ͦsͬcͬaͥrͤiͩesͣᵇtͦ ͧdͭemͫoͤn ͥoͫuᶠtͬ ͤtͤhere.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Spider Queen’s expression shifts, and she tries to run, but MK’s legs are faster. He watches himself move, jumping over stones and cliffs and any obstacle.  The webs she tries to trap him in freeze, and he slides across them as if his feet were skates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he corners her.  MK watches his body close in, and suddenly he’s back in control, staring her down.  Satisfaction crawls up his back, a cold grin splitting his face in two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ʷWͪhͦˢoˢ'ͨsͣ ͬsͤcͩaᶰrͦʷed now?” He grins, and she screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ice, it turns out, is a great muffler.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Finding DBK’s hiding place is harder.  MK locates it just outside the city limits, in an abandoned scrapyard.  The perfect place to get parts for new bull clones and other random things Red Son can come up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decides to go on the weekend, but as he prepares the night before Monkey King makes an appearance in his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, bud,” MK jumps at his arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have been hiding as a bug or something, like when MK first found the staff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monkey King!” He grins at his arrival, hopping up.  “What’s the occasion?  Is there something new you wanted to teach me?  Is there a demon we have to fight?”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>We,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not as in MK and Monkey King, but MK and</span>
  <em>
    <span> himself.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Because he’s not one, not really, and that’s fun!  He hates being alone, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Monkey King chuckles, overly fond.  Right, MK hasn’t been to Flower Fruit Mountain for a week.  “It’s just-you left pretty early, and, uh, you didn’t say anything about our next training sesh, you know?  And, uhh, pretty sure you shouldn’t be slacking off on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The half hearted scolding aside, MK almost thinks that Monkey King missed him.  But that’s ridiculous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you were sleeping when I got up, and I had to go to work,” The lie slips easily off of his tongue.  “I didn’t want to wake you, so I left!  Um, we’re busy tomorrow, but Sunday works for training, if that’s cool?” He rocks back and forth on his feet, ever excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re?  Who’s cooler than me to hang out with?” Monkey King reaches out to ruffle his hair, and MK can feel the shiver that jolts through the monkey’s body at the touch.  Monkey King doesn’t comment on it, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promised Mei we’d hang out.  It’s been a busy week at the shop, so I haven’t been able to party with her,” He doesn’t know where these lies are coming from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he talks and it’s not him at all.  He should be concerned, but honestly he doesn’t mind if his other self takes the reigns.  He fumbles over his words way too often to be annoyed that someone is smoothing him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Polished like an ice sculpture; MK thinks he could be beautiful if he was like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine.  You and your friend can….do whatever it is kids do these days.  Am I an adult—oh my god I’m an adult,” Monkey King flops back onto his nimbus cloud with a groan while MK giggles.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, get some rest, bud.  You look tired,” is the last thi</span>
  <span>ng Monkey King says to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it!” MK salutes, and Monkey King floats through the window and then rockets off.  The papers in MK’s room all swirl from the blowback, and MK grabs one of the sketches that floats back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t remember the last time he asked Tang for a story. The last time he sketched anything else at all.  But, a hero doesn’t need hobbies so trivial.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He plans.  Plans for how the city is going to look like, when he’s finished with it all.  He doesn’t need to write down the steps to get there, he has his head voice for that, but the city.  How it will look, when he’s done.  He has to figure it out, draw it out, and pin it to the wall so he can look at it every morning and evening and remember why he’s doing this.  So he sketches.  Pins the piece to the wall.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squints.  He doesn’t like it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back to the drawing board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His wall is covered by the time the sun rises, and MK still isn’t satisfied.  But there is no time to waste.  So, he picks up the outfit that feels all the more new—blue isn’t a color he expected to like, but blue is</span>
  <em>
    <span> cold is safe is good is the burning warmth he </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>needs</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so he leaves the orange jacket and red headband hanging off of his desk chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at himself in the mirror, he can barely tell the difference!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is gone before Pigsy comes up with breakfast, before Pigsy calls for Tang to look at the mess MK left behind, enough drawings of the same thing for anyone to get the picture.  He is gone before Pigsy and Tang investigate, speak in hushed tones, and call for Sandy, Mei, and eventually Monkey King.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Getting to the outskirts of town is the easy part.  Infiltrating DBK’s base is a bit harder.  It’s not heavily fortified, but MK thinks that’s more because he has never tried to infiltrate such a place.  He doesn’t really attack first, he just protects.  But that’s not good enough anymore, clearly.  He can’t just be protective, he needs to be proactive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slides past the guards, freezes them for good measure.  After all, they’re going to be made useless once he takes their leader down, so it’s not as if he’s wasting anything.  There’s also always the chance they get wise, and MK doesn’t want his entrance ruined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inner sanctum of the base looks more like a house, made large to accommodate DBK’s figure.  There are pictures on the wall, from painted portraits to black and white to color photos.  MK supposes that the Demon Bull Family has been around long enough to have portraits taken in all sorts of mediums.  He wonders if they have statues, a shrine?  He bites back a giggle at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The booming sound of cloven footsteps alerts MK to DBK’s arrival, though by the sounds of two voices approaching, Princess Iron Fan must be with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red Son has been pulling away from us,” the gravel in DBK’s voice is soft, somehow.  MK listens in with interest.  What is it they are doing to their son now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tried to kill him.  He can’t help but take it personally,” is Princess Iron Fan’s reply.  “He barely knows you, and he’s young.  He’ll grow out of it,” she waves a hand, unconcerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK glares at them.  The temperature in the hallway drops, until Princess Iron Fan shivers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, I thought this house had a heating function?” Princess Iron fan curls her arms around herself, and DBK picks her up and sets her on his shoulder, suddenly on guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does, the boy made it so,” he growls, sniffing around for intruders.  MK decides to let himself be known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” he says as he pops out from around the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noodle boy?” Princess Iron Fan questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little Thief,” DBK growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I go by MK,” he corrects cheerily.  “But, anyway, could you hold still?  This will be harder if you move,” He twirls his staff casually.  DBK growls, and Princess Iron Fan places a hand on the side of his face to silence him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK,” Princess Iron Fan starts, with a forced air of politeness.  “We are in your debt for helping save my husband.  However, if you attack us, we will have no choice but to fight back, and we will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins, self assured, a</span>
  <span>nd continues</span>
  <span>  “And you know what happened the last time you tried to fight me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fire.  Volcanoes.  She had tried to kill him and, more importantly, she had made his friends cry.  But things have changed, haven’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK giggles.  The sound echoes, and the hallway gets colder.  Frost crawls over the walls, and MK looks up with eyes that glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aͣcͨtͭuͧaͣˡlˡlʸy,ͥ Iͭ ͪtͥᶰhᵏiʸnͦkͧ ˢyͪoͦuͧˡ'ͩllͬ ͧᶰfiͥᶠnʸdͦ ͧmᵏeᶰ ͦʷtʷoͪ ͣbͭˢeᵍ ͦhͦaͩrᶠdͦeͬrʸ ͦtͧo ᶰbͦeͭatͭ ͪtͣhͭaʸnͦ ͧbeͨfͣᶰorͤˢeͨᵃᵖᵉ,” He jumps up with a smile, and sprints forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something dawns on her face, and Princess Iron Fan stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, we need to run,” She says, quickly, but MK jumps and bounces off of the walls and is eye to eye with her before she can explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t even have time to grab her fan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>DBK jumps back as the block of ice slides off his shoulder and he roars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father?!” MK hears Red Son’s voice from afar and ignores that for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will tear you to pieces you ingrate!” DBK shouts, and MK laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ʸYͦoͧu ͨcͦoͧˡuͩᶰlͭdnͤ'ͮtͤᶰ ˢeͭvͦᵖenͫ ͤbʷeͪaͤᶰt ͥmʷeͣˢ wͥᶰhʸeͦnͧ ͬI ͪwͤaͣsͩnʸ'ͦtͧ ᶠtͦrͦˡying!” he shouts back, dodging a blow that sinks DBK’s fist in the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The frost slides from the wall to DBK’s arm, gluing him there.  He fires the gun on his other arm, and MK dodges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nͥiͩcͥeͦ ͭshot!” He dances around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>DBK takes a step in the wrong direction, and slips on the ice cube that is his wife, dropping to the ground.  MK wastes no time, and DBK’s roar is sile</span>
  <span>nced abruptly</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noodle Boy!  What on earth are you doing?!” Red Son looks rather steamed, if the smoke coming off of him is any indication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Red Son!  I was just taking care of your parents,” MK gestures to the popsicles on the floor.  Red Son stares, face a mixture of confusion and horror, and MK barrels toward him.  “Now they can’t be mean to you anymore.  You can make fun inventions and not have to be a mean guy all the time!” Honestly, if anything, Red Son should be thanking MK, but MK doesn’t do this for thanks.  He takes a few hairs and blows on them, and his clones start to work on moving the new additions to his cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You—” Red Son is at a loss for words before la</span>
  <span>nding on</span>
  <span> “Give me back my parents!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>See, MK was worried about that.  He would likely have responded the same, when he first left his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I worked hard to get them out of the way!” MK pouts.  “But, I get it.  You don’t understand.  You just need to ᵍcͤoͭolͦ ͧdͭowͦᶠn,ͦ ͧoͬkʷaͣʸy?” MK reaches out, places a hand on Red Son’s shoulder before he can be stopped, and Red Son is going to freeze too, when—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red Son explodes, and MK </span>
  <em>
    <span>burns.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not enough to melt the ice, no, but MK is thrown back against the wall, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chill in his bones vanishes with a screech, and all he can hear is screaming.  For a moment, something rises within him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t be doing this, he can’t be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t a bad person, he isn’t cruel. He would</span>
  <span>n’t do this</span>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to stop, he needs to—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the flames vanish, and so does Red Son, and the cold slips back into place with brutal efficiency.  MK blinks, tries to remember where he is.  Right, DBK and Princess Iron Fan.  He got them!  Great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His clones have been destroyed in the blaze, so he makes some new ones, and heads back to base.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shame he couldn’t get Red Son to understand, but they all will soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good job, vessel.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK feels warm.  It bur</span>
  <span>ns</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He’s deliberating back at his hideout about where his newest statues should go when he hears a sharp gasp from behind him.  He turns, and Mei is looking at him with something that looks like horror, but that can’t be right.  Why would she be horrified by something so beautiful?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK?” she starts, cautiously.  “What…happened to you?  You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>really bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>, why are you wearing blue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the color!” he asserts.  “And I’m fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She purses her lips, and then tries again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um...MK.  What is this?” She points to the frozen menagerie behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> pout, even though he feels like he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ruined the surprise,” he grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.  “I stopped all the bad guys!  See?” he gestures to them.  “Now they can’t hurt anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, before Mei ca</span>
  <span>n catch up, where MK asks, “</span>
  <span>Hey, do you think people would want to put them in a museum?” He taps his chin with his index finger, deliberating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you...does Monkey King have powers like this?” she tries, a third time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” MK jumps at the sound of Monkey King’s voice.  Monkey King floats down on his cloud, hopping off and looking at MK with an air of suspicion.  “Kid, how are you doing this?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause they hurt you guys,” MK has been itching for a chance to explain, to get someone to understand.  “And the-my head voice gave me the idea.  Once these guys are all gone, everyone can be safe, and no one will leave!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Head voice?” Pigsy comes from behind a pillar.  “MK, what are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the voice in your head that sounds like you?” He explains.  “It-it told me how to do it.  And I’m not a carbon copy of Monkey King, it makes sense that I’d have a few new powers, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tang appears, from somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did all of his friends get here?  He can see Sandy, Mo in tow on his shoulder, peeking in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have any deviations.  Maybe your transformations would be different, but to go so far as to have ice powers?” Tang pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and his glasses flash.  “That shouldn’t be possible, given Monkey King’s power set.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on, kid?” Sandy’s voice is very soft, as he approaches, just like when they were on the boat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!” MK’s voice is cheery as ever.  “I’m just fixing things, okay?  I think you need to ˢcͪhͧiͭllͧᵖ ʷoͧʲuͥᶰtᵍ,” he reaches forward, and Sandy and Mo are ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” MK looks on, bewildered, as his friends stare at him in horror.  “He’ll be fine!  It doesn’t hurt.  I’ve been freezing for ages!  It gets warm after a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes glow, and Tang pales.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baigujing,” he breathes, and MK turns to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about her?” he asks, and Tang puts a hand to his mouth, biting his lip and glancing between the rest of the group and MK, unsure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bud,” Monkey King takes a few cautious steps toward MK, as if MK were a cornered animal.  His feet slip a little on the ice, but not enough to stop his careful approach.  His tail is poised and very still, not so much as a twitch from it.  “I think you’re feeling a bit...um, scrambled right now.  Why don’t you hand me the staff, and we can talk about this?” He gives MK a soft smile, but MK frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If he takes the staff you can’t finish your work! Does he thi</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>nk you don’t deserve it anymore?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I need it,” he responds, simple and to the point.  “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  Right?  Because Monkey King gave it to him.  Gifts can’t be taken back, right?  MK’s still worthy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King takes a deep breath, like he’s biting back a retort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Preeeeetty </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure I let you </span>
  <em>
    <span>borrow</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.  ‘S called ‘Monkey King’s Staff’ for a reason, bud.  C’mon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another step forward.  MK grips the staff tighter.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK, please,” Tang calls from his other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>n’t let him take it!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need you to let go!” Mei’s voice hits his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re all lying to you!  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid-I-c’mon, just let ‘em have it and we can go home,” Pigsy’s voice breaks, and MK feels like he’s going to break with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is he even going to let you keep your home?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King is close enough that MK can feel the heat of his power emanating off of him, of the great Sun Wukong.  His paws are soft and somehow even warmer than his power as he curls them around MK’s grip on the staff.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They do</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>n’t understand! They’re going to abandon you!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, easy does it,” Relief colors Monkey King’s tone, and he smiles at MK as if MK were the sun.  It’s too soft to be true.  “Just hand it over, and we’ll make sure everything’s okay, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts to tug, pulling the staff out of MK’s grip ever so gently, and MK flinches as the voice rings loud in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>YOU NEED IT DON’T LET HIM TAKE IT FROM YOU HE’LL RUIN EVERYTHING—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s</span>
  <b>
    <em> MͫIͥᶰNͤE!</em>
  </b>
  <span>” MK shouts, and he slams the side of it into Monkey King’s stomach and launches his mentor across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King crashes into the wall, groaning as he pushes away the falling rubble.  MK’s eyes are wild.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you can’t have it!  I need it!” Ice crawls over his right hand, cementing his grip.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tang sees it, takes a step back, and turns to the two horrified bystanders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run!” he shouts, and Mei bolts.  Pigsy stares, motioning for Tang to run, but Tang is too close to MK to do anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> for?” MK frowns, loweri</span>
  <span>ng a </span>
  <span>hand onto Tang’s shoulder.  Pigsy makes a choked sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!  Bajie, get </span>
  <em>
    <span>out </span>
  </em>
  <span>of here!” Tang shouts, far more desperate than MK expected.  Why is everyone so terrified?  This is just a misunderstanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, tͭiͦmͦeˡ ͣoͭuͤt ͭfͦorͬ ͧᶰyˢoͣᶰuᶻᵃᶰᵍ,” MK pats Tang’s shoulder once, and Tang is rooted to the spot.  MK freezes him slower, because Tang isn’t strong, merely smart.  And if he does it slow, then he doesn’t have to chisel away the extra later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei comes roaring in on her bike, and she picks up Pigsy by the back of his chef’s coat, throws him on the back of her bike, and zooms off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tang!” Pigsy screams, but his voice gets farther and farther away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” MK is so confused.  He looks to Monkey King, who is just sitting there on his cloud, horrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sun Wukong</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tang says, voice hard.  The ice is up to his chest.  “Get out of here.  Bajie is going to be a wreck after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you </span>
  <em>
    <span>make sense!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” MK throws his hands up, tired of being ignored, talked over, walked over.  “Or at least ˢsͪtͧoͭp ͧᵖtalking!” And Tang goes silent, frozen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK turns back to Monkey King, and finds that his mentor has vanished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that won’t do.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After them!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK jumps onto a disk of ice and slides across stone, feet still as the ice barrels over any obstacle, leading him past the dead sliver of a great mountain and up onto the streets.  Mei just has made her way to ground level, aided up by Monkey King, and MK zeroes in on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pass by cars, and MK ignores the blaring horns as he slides over city streets.  The ice trailing behind him makes cars swerve out of control, but he needs to get to his friends.  They have to understand.  This is all for them!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ice shoots forward, and he gets closer and closer, until Mei’s back wheel hits frost and the back of the bike jerks one way, the front the other.  The bike slips onto its side with immediacy, and Pigsy and Mei go sprawling as Mei’s bike falls apart, skiddi</span>
  <span>ng across the ice</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mei!” he runs to her side.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans, her bike suit torn.  He doesn’t even think about Pigsy at the moment, too worried about his best friend to think of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>person he hurt.  Plus, Pigsy’s a full grown adult, and MK has never seen Pigsy hurt like Mei is, so it doesn’t even register that Pigsy could be as injured as she is.  Her left arm has a large patch of skin that’s been burnt off by the road, and her legs are bleeding from various places.  Thankfully, she was wearing a helmet, so MK doesn’t have to worry about something so serious.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  Are you alright?  Where does it hurt?  I’m sorry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some ice might help with the pain.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, right, icing the wound always helps.  He goes to make some, the power swirling in his hand, when a horn from a car blares, making him wince.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gosh,</span>
  <em>
    <span> humans.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  They’re so annoying!  If they could just stay out of the way, because he needs to fix this, that’d be great.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Remember the pause button?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems very inviting.  MK nods.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right.  A pause button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a sec, Mei,” he leaves her groaning on the ground, turning to face the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slams his staff into the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ice shoots out in a wild dash.  It crawls over and into everything.  Cars, buildings, people—everything freezes.  He hears some screams, and watches people try and run for the hills, but the cold is faster. It billows dow</span>
  <span>n the streets, kicking up a white haze that is almost impossible to see through, that the pedestrians tripping on ice and solidifying get lost in, but it’s a snowy sheen that MK sees through perfectly. He can see the polished figures of buildings, glistening beneath their ice, the little mounds that must be people beneath the thick layer of ice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all so pristine. So perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK is glad for the quiet.  With him and himself in his head, it’s hard to deal with outside noise. He just needed a moment of calm, to get to the task at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The task at hand...Mei!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mei, are you—” he stops.  Mei and Pigsy aren’t there.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes search for them, and he can see Monkey King hurriedly pulling them up onto his cloud.  “Wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King looks at him, and MK’s face is pleading.  He just wants to do right.  Why don’t they understand?  Once he fixes it all, everyone will be happy.  Can’t they wait?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, bud,” Monkey King says.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. A rush of pa</span>
  <span>nic tries to grip his brain, something that was once so familiar, something that was once so </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it disappears in MK’s desperation to act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cloud zooms off. He throws a ha</span>
  <span>nd out, running after it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is just like his dream.  At the edge of the city, a wall of ice rises.  It sparkles in the light of the setting sun, and MK raises it higher, and higher, as Monkey King and Mei and Pigsy and everyone he cares about most gets farther and farther away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King punches through the ice, and they disappear into the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK drops to his knees. They la</span>
  <span>nd hard on the frozen ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said they wouldn’t leave,” he whimpers out, crying because it hurts and he doesn’t know exactly why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s more than just regular pain.  Something warm and different and yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar </span>
  </em>
  <span>stings.  Something knows this isn’t right, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!  If this was the right thing to do, why would everyone leave?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to stop!” The words are forced out of his mouth.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK doesn’t know when the words are him and when the words are something else.  He doesn’t know who he is.  What’s right?  What’s wrong?  How can he tell?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s just been listening to his own head, but his own head is arguing with itself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slams his free fist into his temple, to try and make things settle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chains drag him to the ground, leaving him stuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are doing everything just right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>The voice is soft in one ear, but on the other side MK hears</span> <span>No! On repeat.  No, this isn’t right.  You froze good people.  Innocent people!  You froze Tang and Sandy!  You made Pigsy cry!  You hurt Mei!</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They don’t understand yet.  Monkey King is notoriously stubborn.  He isn’t ready for his successor to pass him yet.  All you have to do is wait for them to come back.  And they will.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s harder and harder to hear the argument against this.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice sounds so self assured.  The warmth that doesn’t burn gets weaker and weaker, like a fire out of kindling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wheezes, and tears turn to snowflakes on his skin.  He chokes on his own breath.  It comes out white and fogs his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone’s gone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s alone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This can’t be right.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is.  You just haven’t done enough yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That, MK understands.  The need to do more, be more.  It makes far more sense that he hasn’t done enough, than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll come back?” He asks, and his voice sounds so loud in the quiet.  He feels a hand brush his hair back.  He leans into the touch, but it’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>MK stands.  The chains vanish, and he smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay then!  Let’s get to work!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t let go of the staff in ages.  He doesn’t think he can.  He turns to the mess he’d made in his rush job, the froze</span>
  <span>n city’s statue</span>
  <span>.  He has to fix that, it’s unsightly!  Mei and Pigsy and Monkey King won’t like a mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he plans, as he hopes, he feels a smile in the back of his head.  It feels like a snowball to his skull, chilling and yet a comfort, somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful work, Vessel.  We’re going to do great things together.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And Now I'm Covered In The Colors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pulled apart at the seams</p><p>Mei loves her friend.<br/>That's why it hurts to lose him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mei is born a dragon.  She doesn’t remember this, and no one else knows, but the first thoughts she ever has are </span>
  <em>
    <span>where are my claws, where is my tail, why do I have no fur?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are sharp and green, glowing with a power her parents don’t notice for a while.  Because she is born a dragon and she is destined for great things.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her ancestors look down at her and wonder how she could ever be a dragon, big and strong and disciplined as they are.  But Mei never backs down from a challenge, so when they question her ability she bares her teeth and strikes back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei’s childhood is filled with history lessons and the constant reminder to touch nothing, to stay away from everything.  Home isn’t home, home is a museum and her parents are the curators, proud to show off their elegant collection to her, the unwitting guest who would like to be in a house instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her room is her haven, as is the game room.  She darts between the two and hides her face from her parents’ disappointed glares at every pristine high-class dinner, shoulders hunched at the end of the longest table she’s ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents always sit at the other end.  She feels alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is homeschooled until she turns 10 and is subsequently enrolled in a pristine private school.  One that only the richest families can afford to send their kids to, one that has a 0% fail rate because the teachers will rake you over the coals until you are the model of perfection.  Mei is blessed enough to be inclined towards the harder subjects, soaking up math and science jargon like a sponge.  Her grades are as pristine as the artifacts in her house, not that she has it in herself to be excited.  School is, much like everything her family pushes her into, a checkmark on the list of things that make her a respectable member of her family.  Once that list is complete, she can be free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t make any friends at school.  She is loud and passionate—nothing like the prim and proper kids indoctrinated into believing themselves above such emotions.  She finds herself withdrawing, sitting alone at lunch and idly eating the gourmet meals while tapping away at her portable game console.  Monkey Mech II won’t beat itself, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A kid in her English class catches her eye.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For one, it’s a surprise that he’s even there.  He’s a year younger than her, so they don’t have any other classes together.  He keeps to himself and always has something to say, talking about characters as if he knew them personally.  When they study the folktale book that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Journey to the West</span>
  </em>
  <span> he absolutely enthralls the class in discussion, to the point that the teacher has to tell them that it’s time to move on instead of trying to force them to speak up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s rich, clearly, if he’s here, but no part of him acts upper class.  He’s loud, passionate, and nothing like the prim and proper kids at the school.  He gets points taken off his essays for sketching in the margins.  He gets held in at lunch because he’s failing math.  He is so, so smart, and yet the teachers look at him as if he’s the dumbest kid in school, because he’s wild and undisciplined and a little scatterbrained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei decides she likes him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finds him at lunch, on one of the rare days where he can eat in the dining hall instead of some classroom as a teacher runs him through the same lessons over and over.  He sits alone, too, and people give him a wide berth.  She walks over, confident, and sets her plate across from his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh-do you want this table?” he immediately asks.  “I can move if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The assumption makes sympathy bleed into her chest.  For all his bluster in class, he’s shy, used to no one wanting him around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I wanted to sit with you,” she tells him, honest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seems taken aback by her cavalier response, staring for a moment before he breaks out into a gap toothed grin that’s blinding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.  Hi!  I’m Qi Xiaotian!” he tells her proudly, as if she hasn’t heard him be called that by her English teacher several times in every class.  “But, um,” and his voice goes shy again.  “I’ve been thinking about going by MK.  For short.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts, not unkindly, and nods her head in greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MK,” She says deliberately, smiling when he glows at the name.  “I’m Long Xiaojiao, but I go by Mei.  What does MK stand for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monkey King,” MK tells her, almost breathless with the reverence the name holds.  “He’s so cool—I wanna be like him one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dragons get along best with Monkeys, as well as Roosters and Rats.  She doesn’t know this, but MK’s impish nature and love of play does remind her of a monkey, in some respects, and somehow she already knows they’re going to get along swimmingly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like Monkey King, right?  You had a lot to talk about in class.” She is reminded of how passionately he defended Monkey King whenever anyone called the character foolish or selfish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK is practically vibrating in his seat, and he nods enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah—I’m even drawing his autobiography!” He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a messy sketchbook that is held together with tape and has many random scraps added in.  He opens it up, and she recognizes the doodles that now look far more professional torn from the notes pages and lovingly pasted into the book.  The pages that are fully drawn are just as impressive.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unofficially,” MK adds, as an afterthought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are incredible!” she squeals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK blushes scarlet. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heck yeah!” People are staring at them, because she’s loud and the dining hall is mostly quiet, but she doesn’t care.  “Hey, speaking of Monkey King, I have Monkey Mech II on my DSi.  Wanna try it out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She holds out the device and MK’s eyes sparkle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Totally!  Oh, I’m so jealous, my parents would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>buy me this stuff.” He takes the console and starts it up after a careful instruction from Mei.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei wonders.  She doesn’t feel at home in her home, but her parents don’t outright deny her interests.  She can feel their disappointment when it comes to how much time she devotes to her interests, but she has a game room, and her room gets to be as crazy and as messy as she wants it to be so long as her grades are adequate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck beating my high score,” she tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK’s eyes gleam with determination.  “Oh, you are so on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Mei glances around at all the prim and proper kids with their pretentious conversations and perfect little cliques that will dissolve once they’re out in the real world, and she feels a pinch of pity, overwhelmed by pride and satisfaction, because MK is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t know what they’ve just missed out on.        </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She and MK meet up every time at lunch, when he isn’t being held back in class to be taught the same lesson over and over.  Their recess is replaced with a study period, though, so they meet up then and she helps tutor him.  She’s a couple years ahead of him in math, advanced to the point of it being a mark of pride, and she can immediately see the issue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK does not respond well to quiet rooms and structured lessons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She explains things as gently and as clearly as she can, but he doesn’t understand the concept and, as such. can’t put it together.  She bites back words of annoyance, because she can see him cringe away from her every time he gets an answer wrong, every time he has to tell her he doesn’t get it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s waiting for her to get tired of him, to give up, just like every other teacher, and she refuses to be another person who fails him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she asks him how he studies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh,” MK looks at her with wide eyes, as if he’d never expected such a question.  He shrugs. “I’ll put on some music, if my parents aren’t around, and I’ll read the textbook and just...figure it out myself?  Sometimes it works, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” She hands him her headphones and phone. “Let’s try your way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> She’s seen his phone and it’s basically a brick.  He told her he’s not allowed to add more contacts, but she gives him her phone number anyway, written on a slip of paper.  He sticks it in his sketchbook, his prized possession, and it gives her some semblance of relief.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still stumbles over some concepts.  When he does he taps her on the shoulder and she looks at his work, traces it from the beginning to see where he tripped, and points out the error so he can fix it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the thing is, it isn’t like MK doesn’t understand math, he just doesn’t understand the way it’s taught.  This school, for all its boasting, does nothing to accommodate students.  If you do not fit the mold, they will crush you until you do.  Mei is smart and crafty enough that her eccentricities are left well enough alone, but MK’s low grades are enough to bring him the ire of every person in the school staff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei does her best to show how MK’s way of working through problems can translate into the lesson’s way of teaching, but she can tell it doesn’t sink in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just have to write it down your way, then.  You’ll get points for the right answers, still, and that should bring your grade up to passing,” she assures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think my parents want better than passing,” he mumbles, mostly to himself.  MK fidgets with the sleeves of his fitted uniform shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles at him, still, and tries to settle the rumbling concern in her chest that makes her want to snatch MK up and away from anything and anyone who puts that look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei knows that MK is lonely, like her.  He’s small, loud, brash, and different from everyone else in the school.  Just like her.  That’s why she likes him, because he doesn’t settle into the high and mighty attitude everyone else does, as if their wealth makes them important somehow.  He makes himself small, ducks away from crowds, and only brightens beneath her sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she notices other things.  He never wears short sleeves, even on days he ought to.  Sometimes she pats him on the back or the arm and he winces.  Sometimes he walks slowly, like it’s hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it shouldn’t be a surprise, one day, when she hears jeering laughter from behind the school, and finds MK in the center of a ring of boys, the leader holding MK’s backpack high enough that MK can’t reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, I need to get home.  Give it back!” MK jumps to try and reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets a kick to the stomach for his troubles, one that has him rolling back until his head smacks against the ground.  The leader of the ring rolls his eyes, says something cruel that Mei can’t hear over the rush of her heartbeat in her ears, and he opens MK’s backpack, spilling its contents all over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK crawls on his knees to grab the papers, the sketchbook snatched first and clutched to his chest tightly for fear of someone else grabbing it from him.  There are some pages in that notebook that Mei remembers seeing MK lovingly reattach with tape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, she sees red.  She stomps over with a snarl worthy of a dragon, and finds her claws in a white knuckled fist she slams against the ring leader’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t regret it, not for a second, even as blood gets on her hand from the blow.  She shakes it off and gets into a defensive stance in front of her only best friend and bares her teeth(</span>
  <em>
    <span>they aren’t sharp yet, they haven’t grown in</span>
  </em>
  <span>).  A roar sits in the back of her throat(</span>
  <em>
    <span>her lungs need more time, she cannot rattle the walls yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>).  Her hands are not made into fists, fingers flexed out and sharp(</span>
  <em>
    <span>she doesn’t have claws, one day she will slice through stee</span>
  </em>
  <span>l).  The crowd of boys stare at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try it,” she growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind her, MK pulls his things into his lap and quickly shoves the papers and book into his backpack, the sketchbook the last item to be placed inside with carefulness the other items are not afforded in his haste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mei,” he whispers as he stands, backpack clutched to his chest.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes are pleading, as if begging her to leave, to run away and leave him behind.  She doesn’t falter.  The ring leader’s nose bleeds and she finds satisfaction in watching him press his hand against his face to try and stop the blood flow.  Red drips onto the asphalt anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is, of course, when a teacher finds them.  Because they only ever find her when she’s in trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents are furious when they find out.  She sits in a spare chair in her father’s office as the lecture drones on and on, reminders of how disappointed they are, how she’s made a fool of them, how the school is threatening to kick her out because of their zero tolerance policy on fighting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bitterly, she thinks on how they didn’t notice the bruises all over MK.  As if he wasn’t worthy of their attention, of their care.  It makes her grip the seat tightly, tight enough to leave minute cracks in the wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Long Xiaojiao, are you listening to me?” Her father’s voice booms, and she flinches, just a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mother’s voice is sharper.  “We expect you to apologise to that boy and another incident like that and you’ll lose your gaming privileges for good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic blooms in her chest.  Games are her only outlet.  She doesn’t have any other grounds to stand on with her parents, doesn’t have anything else they share.  Gaming is her only outlet that doesn’t make them stare at her with reproach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the first statement hits her, realization dawning on her of what they want her to do, and she grits her teeth with a snarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not apologizing!” she shouts, hard.  Her parents balk at her tone.  “He was bullying my friend with a bunch of other kids like a coward.  He’s a jerk and he deserved it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her chest heaves, and she shakes.  Her parents regard her with something else.  Not anger, not disappointment.  Curiosity, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her clan favors loyalty and justice, over all else.  In their line, they protect what is theirs.  Their home, their people.  Can she be blamed then, for following that rule?  For keeping what is hers safe?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She waits, stares at her feet.  She is terrified of their reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re grounded for two months,” her mother says.  Sharp.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei nods, miserably, and silently bemoans the loss of her Monkey Mech weekly streak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t have to apologise to that..miscreant,” her father adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks, looking up at them with wide eyes.  They regard her coldly, and she looks down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mother tilts Mei’s head back up with a hand beneath her chin.  “Our clan was descended from dragons,” she says, as if Mei doesn’t know, as if Mei isn’t a part of the clan herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She isn’t, she knows.  Every disappointed glare from her family reminds her, every screw up, every lack of ability to be proper.  She is the one in her family that cannot be a dragon.  She looks up at the tapestries with her ancestors staring down at her and feels nothing but shame.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is right for us to protect what is ours, but we cannot be brutes about it.  Be smarter next time,” her mother finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.  She’s dismissed to her room, and she curls up on her bed and cries, because she doesn’t know what to feel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, she comes back to school to glares from every adult on the school staff.  She doesn’t know what strings her parents had to pull, but the incident is swept under the rug and she doesn’t hear any follow up on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK rushes over to her, and she’s so focused on making it to class that he practically bowls her over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh, Mei, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, I didn’t mean for you to find out!” He’s practically crying all over her.  “Did your parents get mad?  Are you okay?  Do you need snacks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The questions, she will later realize, explain how MK’s parents would react to this situation.  The thought makes her blood boil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the moment, though, she doesn’t realize that MK’s parents are far crueler than she could ever dream of her parents being.  That MK slaps a smile on his face and expects everyone is going through the same things as him, day after day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, she will, but it will be too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’m okay.  Better than that guy I hit—did you see his face?” she laughs, but then when she looks down at MK his face pointed towards his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His expression is nothing short of heartbreaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Xiaojiao.” The use of her real name makes her freeze, so unused to it coming from his mouth.  “I-I got you in trouble, and I should have made it so you never knew, I should have been better, I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to mess it up—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words get faster and faster, he pulls at the cuffs of his shirt anxiously, desperate to get the words out.  As if he’s afraid she won’t let him explain.  As if he’s trying to get it all out before she interrupts, gets mad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that he still expects her to do that, that he doesn’t trust her enough yet to know she would never yell at him for something like this, makes Mei think that she hasn’t been a good enough friend. There were other reasons of course, reasons that Mei had only scratched the surface of, but in the moment all she can think of is how MK won’t meet her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey-hey.”  She places a hand on MK’s shoulder, and he freezes up, so still and quiet and not-MK that it frightens her.  “It’s okay!  It’s not your fault those guys are jerks.  And I’d fight them again any time of day.  Just point me their way.” She grins and imagines her teeth sharp as knives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares at her, eyes uncomprehending.  She wonders if she’s his first friend.  She doesn’t have friends she can hang out with in person, but playing video games online at least allows her to talk to people.  She has a few online friends that she can at least hang out with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK’s parents don’t let him play games.  From what Mei hears, MK’s parents don’t let him do anything besides schoolwork.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How lonely was that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK looks up at her and smiles, small and blinding, and she wonders how anyone could even think to leave MK behind, to think about letting that smile disappear under the weight of loneliness and rejection.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Mei,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is a dragon, green and glowing and ethereal, and he is the sun, golden and royal and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bright.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  She slings an arm around his shoulders and wonders if she were a real dragon, could she wrap herself around a star?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna be late.  Race you to class?” she teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK’s expression shifts, from a soft smile to this determined look that she’s never seen on anyone else.  The type of drive that could tear down anything in its way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re on!” He says, then rushes off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sprint through the halls, ducking behind lockers to hide from teachers who would yell if they were caught, giggling and pushing each other half heartedly, bursting into English class with smiles wide enough that they hurt, sidling to the back to sit next to each other as their teacher clears her throat and begins the lesson. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next couple of years are rather uneventful.  MK’s bullies back off, now that they know what lengths Mei will go to to keep them away from him.  And maybe they have backed away. But Mei remembers, and she schemes. If she has to be smart about her revenge, she will be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She learns to hack into cameras.  She learns how to change a grade just enough that it goes unnoticed by teachers inputting them, but not by the parents receiving the report card.  And she knows that in this environment, a percentage point of difference can radically change the child’s approval rating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starting off small is how you get away with it.  She backs off for a month or two to make it seem as if the punishments are working, and then ramps her “editing” back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She changes their schedules around at the last minute.  She forges emails to make it seem as though they’re planning to cheat on exams.  She is ruthless.  She bares her teeth as her claws clack against the keyboard keys and feels a sickeningly cruel sense of vindication when they’re expelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei knows that she is likely crueler than most children.  Knows that she holds grudges for too long, remembers and learns too keenly, knows she is far too okay with revenge, with violence in recourse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK helps temper her enthusiasm for the darker aspects of herself.  When the going gets tough, he’d rather turn tail and run, laughing off jokes that are made at his expense.  His endless optimism under her support makes it easy to forget the slights that would have her clenching her fists and thinking of a battle scenario.  Why give them the time of day, when there’s games to play?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK makes himself small, thin and wiry as he moves lightning fast from danger and towards fun, and she feels impossibly large next to him, and she hates it.  Hates it because his light is the brightest thing she’s ever seen.  She wants to feel small at his side, if only to help him grow into the star that he is, a star that could eclipse a whole galaxy if he’d let it show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they are thirteen, MK starts to fall behind even more.  He still does well, but they dip from “excelling” to “above average.”  They drop even more in the classes MK was struggling in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei sees MK less and less because he’s held back in class during lunch and has to run home right after school.  He says that his parents are timing how long it takes him to get back now, that he’ll get in trouble if he takes too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She worries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts falling asleep in class, eyes sliding shut only for him to shake himself awake a moment later, eyes wide and darting around for something, or someone.  He doesn’t eat lunch.  He works and works, and she watches the bright kid she helped shine retreat further and further until she can’t recognize him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?  I can tutor you, you know,” she suggests, and MK smiles, weary, wary.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are bags under his eyes, and he looks thinner than she remembers.  The collared shirt fits him looser.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” He says with a grin, so wide and bright and fake, like someone’s replaced the sun with a lightbulb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It might be the same brightness, but not as warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A month later, he disappears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t get too worried when he’s gone for just a day.  After all, he’s been looking really unwell.  Maybe he’s just taking a sick day?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it becomes two.  Then three.  On day four she checks her phone religiously, hoping for a call.  He has her number, she knows, because he keeps it in his sketchbook, and he would never let that go.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hears nothing for three days, and then learns to hack into the city’s security cameras.  She scours the city, because she doesn’t know where MK is, doesn’t know if he’s safe, doesn’t know—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sees him walking aimlessly through the town and is out of the house before her parents or anyone else who would dare can stop her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She all but barrels into him outside of an arcade, tackling him to the ground with a shout and hugging him tight, full of a week’s worth of worry and concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mei?” MK asks, uncertain, and she picks him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where have you been?!  You left for a week, and you didn’t say anything, or call, or—” Her rant dies in her throat at the expression on MK’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s smiling, but the edges of it are trembling.  He’s wearing a jacket she’s never seen, and it looks too small on him.  He’s got his school uniform on otherwise, as if he wasn’t allowed to change out of it before he left home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes shine, wet, and he blinks a few times, before they look somewhat dry.  He won’t focus on her, too busy looking around anxiously.  He won’t stop fidgeting with his sleeves.  He looks very, very tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-um, my-I got kicked out,” He shrugs it off, looking away from her.  “Mom and Dad didn’t like my grades, and I got an F on another math test, s-so I, uh-so I’m not supposed to go home until I, um, until I make something of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of all the things Mei expected, somehow, this sends her reeling.  She can’t imagine that happening to her, can’t imagine her parents being that cruel.  They’d more likely hide her away than kick her out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whether that’s better, she doesn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay with me.” She says it so quickly it shocks even her.   “I’ll call my parents!  You can sleep in my room, it’ll be fun, you shouldn’t be out here-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK’s voice is loud enough that people walking past them stop.  Mei freezes at the look on MK’s face.  Resolute, determined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to get you in any more trouble,” he says, firm.  “Your parents could get mad at me and take it out on you, and my parents could get you in trouble because I’m not an adult—I can’t do that to you,”  he fidgets with his fingers, shoulders hunched and eyes looking down at his feet.  “Besides!  I’m used to this—they’d do it sometimes on weekends.  I can take care of myself.  Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei’s hands clench into fists, and she wants to argue, she really does, but she can tell MK is spooked already.  If she fights him, he’ll run, and she might never see him again if he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she relents, and she watches MK relax.  And then she raises a hand.  “But!  We have to meet every weekend, and you have to let me give you stuff.  If my best friend is going to be living out here, I get to give him cool things.  That’s the rule,” She crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for the challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I’m your best friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei hugs MK tight, then, as if she could squeeze out all the negative things people have said to him, at least until she hears MK wheeze out her name.  She then drags him into the arcade, and they play until she doesn’t see the worried lines around MK’s eyes anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She creates a system.  She asks for snacks, for the study hall period.  She gets hungry after lunch, and eating helps her focus.  The chef doesn’t care, and neither do her parents, so long as she keeps her grades up.  She doesn’t actually need the snacks, though, nor does she eat them.  She keeps them in a safe place at school, a hidden room she found exploring one afternoon.  She’d brought MK a few times, when he was overwhelmed, to calm down.  Now she hides the snacks and brings them to MK on the weekends.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She entices her parents to buy her a red jacket.  They hate the color and so does she, but she tells them that it’s good to try new things.  They agree, and are very glad when Mei says she didn’t like the feel of it.  They don’t ask for it back, because why would they, and it goes into MK’s hands the next weekend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows it isn’t enough.  She knows MK is getting thinner, somehow, and knows he’s not sleeping in a nice place.  Sometimes he shows up with bruises and he won’t explain where he got them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She worries.  Constantly.  She tries really hard not to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a few months later that she gets a text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hey Mei!  It’s MK!!!  This guy I met gave me a room and a phone!  I work for him now!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And while Mei doesn’t believe the worst in people, she certainly doesn’t believe the best, so she is suspicious when MK excitedly shows her to Pigsy’s Noodles.  It’s an establishment they’ve been to a few times before together.  MK says he’s been there a lot more without her, because the noodles were really tasty and relatively cheap compared to most places in town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy is gruff, loud, and angry.  He yells at MK to get to work when his break is over, and is violent in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK gets off work at three, instead of eight, which is when the shop closes.  When Mei asks why, MK says that Pigsy is having him go to night school.  Tells Mei something about how Pigsy refuses to have a school drop out be his only employee.  He shows off his room, which is relatively small, but has a bed, desk.  A red blanket, a stack of sketchbook papers and a multitude of pencils, among school supplies.  There’s even a laptop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She runs through the expenses in her head, including the cost of night school.  She asks how much MK makes at work.  He gives her the typical one would expect from a minimum wage job.  He says that Pigsy was going to pay him more, but he’s taking out some money for the room.  Mei knows, based on her knowledge from a quick google search, that that’s a lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pigsy says I can ask his friend Mr. Tang for help if I get lost in class,” MK says, and she hears that his voice is warm again, notices he already looks better than the week before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy is gruff, and loud, and angry, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei decides it then and there.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she advertises the business online via conveniently placed mobile ads and Pigsy’s Noodle’s business starts to boom, well, that’s neither here nor there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts hanging around the shop after school, citing extracurriculars as a reason to not come home immediately.  It isn’t as though her grades need help.  She meets Tang, who inundates MK with any Monkey King story MK could desire, and who is interested when she talks about wanting to become a mechanic or a racer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could do both,” he tells her.  “You’re smart, crafty, and just aggressive enough to beat out the other competitors in a race.  I’ll root for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one’s ever told her that her dreams are worth pursuing.  No one besides MK, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy doesn’t mind her, though he gets annoyed when she sits on the counter instead of a stool.  He’ll yell, and she’ll stay where she is, and he’ll do nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hands her a bowl of noodles one night, when she stays out late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t skip meals,” he grouches at her, and he gets stone faced when she reaches into her pocket for her wallet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She never gets the chance to pay him.  She realizes, thinking about how he collects people as if they were priceless artifacts, to be treasured and cared for, that he would likely be offended if she tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK gets taller, fills out again, and looks healthy and happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei sometimes wishes she’d gotten thrown out, too, if staying here was the other option.  She stays at the house that is a museum and spends less and less time there, finding herself at school and then anywhere else besides those empty halls, that refined mansion.  Her parents don’t seem to notice her absence, don’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Have they ever?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Mei is sixteen, she’s put in green dresses, day after day.  Green and gold, colors of the Dragon of the West Sea.  Her family does not wear white.  White is for stone, for the home, but never to wear themselves.  White is bad luck for Dragons, Mei is told.  White is not to be worn.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just like play is not to be had in dirt, just like she must always sit with perfect posture, just like she must know this and that and act this way and that, and be this and that, and never ever be herself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe, Mei thinks, she’s the bad luck of her family.  She’s the black sheep, so to speak.  She’s the disappointment.  She makes her parents upset, she’s rough and tumble.  She hides in her room.  She barely eats with them anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing she wants matters.  She can play video games because her dad likes it, not because she does.  And she loves to play, will spend hours in that one room, but nothing else feels safe, feels like home, feels like her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She throws out her green dresses in a fit of rage.  Tears up her skirts, smashes her fine jewelry.  She goes out with a drawing MK gave her clutched in her hand hard enough to keep it secure but soft enough to keep it from crumpling in her grip, and takes it to a tailor.  Buys white pants, socks, shoes, shirts.  She gets white scrunchies for her hair, ties it up in pigtails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls on her new tailored jacket, green and dark gold with red accents, dragon glaring at the world from her back.  Heads back to her house—</span>
  <em>
    <span>not home, because it can’t be, not anymore, not with the memories of what happens to people who think that a place like this is home, what happened to MK, her best friend—</span>
  </em>
  <span>wreathed in colors that should tear her apart. Imagines the white covering her piercing through her scales, bright and holy and powerful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s just bad enough, in the eyes of her family to take what would be bad luck and make it a shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sits at one end of the dinner table, back perfectly straight, and her mother’s eyes sharpen on her attire.  Mei eats, perfect manners, and hardens herself against whatever comes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, she shows it off to MK.  He loves her new look, gushes about it.  Cries when he sees his design on the back of her jacket.  Points the logo on his shirt, and outside the shop, and talks about how Pigsy used his art for that, too.  Pigsy peeks his head out from the kitchen, gives her a once over, and says she looks good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei slouches, laughs loud, and drags MK off to the arcade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time passes, and she finds herself farther and farther away from the veritable palace that was meant to house her.  She finishes school, gets her license, and searches for a mechanics internship.  She doesn’t tell her parents.  She’s finished their checklist, she did what she had to do to satisfy their desires to be a proper member of their clan, and now she’s free to do what she wants.  She considers getting her own apartment, but she doubts she could get permission for something that independent and she doesn’t have a job herself. Yet.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets an internship at a mechanics job on the edge of town, closer to Pigsy’s than her house, but close enough that she can rush back to her house if she’s summoned.  She learns the tricks of the trade faster than anyone expects, and they start giving her paid work.  She keeps the money to herself, glad that she has funds that can’t be monitored or controlled.  She slowly accrues the funds, and then mechanical parts, and then she puts together a bike.  She hires MK to paint it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think I should…?” MK is always so nervous about his art skills, but she waves him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, silly.  I wouldn’t hire you if I didn’t think you could do it, duh.” She puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes it a little, as if to shake away any concerns or anxieties he has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK adds the perfect amount of green to accent the white.  When she blurs through the town, all anyone can see is a dragon.  That’s her name in underground races, ones she practices in when training for real ones.  MK and Tang and Pigsy excitedly cheer her on during her first race.  Pigsy closes up shop to be there, even though it’s a Saturday and he’d get good business if he was working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents are busy.  They don’t come, and she doesn’t miss them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She creates a life outside of her family’s wishes, and she doesn’t regret it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t even regret it when the Monkey King madness gets involved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When MK wields Monkey King’s staff, it should come as more of a surprise.  And yet, Mei doesn’t feel anything other than pride, once she realizes Monkey King’s staff is real and is now MK’s.  Honestly, it makes sense.  She’s never met anyone who exemplifies the sun more than MK, so who better to wield </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sun Wukong’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> power?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could do without the demons and the threat of annihilation—mortal peril is not top on her list of things to deal with.  She doesn’t know how MK is going to survive all this.  He’s younger than her, nineteen and tiny and trying his best, determined and undisciplined.  They get out of town, away from the threat, and she watches MK practice strikes, and breathes relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone can do this, she knows her best friend can.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time she thinks her best friend is dead, they’re coming back from the fiery mountains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She will never forget the scream that was abruptly cut off.  She will never forget the way MK’s body flew so fast it was a blur.  She will never forget Princess Iron Fan’s laugh as Pigsy hauled her over his shoulder and ran, an apology spilling from his lips to the child he couldn’t save.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stares at the water as smoke and ash waft overhead and wonders if it hurt when MK burned.  She blinks away tears, barely hears the conversation had between the adults until they talk of revenge, of making sure MK is the last casualty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wipes her eyes, rips her heart from her sleeve.  Her skin hardens to scales and when she smiles, it's to bare her teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no one to stop her from going too far this time.  Her thoughts are dark, her plans darker, and Red Son would be nothing, not even a corpse, had she been unrestrained.  Had she unleashed the fury of the Dragon of the West Sea on the demon who helped get her friend killed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things brighten again when she sees MK’s face, safe and sound, and she hugs him close enough to hear his steady heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He defeats the Demon Bull King.  He is the Monkie Kid.  She thinks back nearly ten years, to when they met.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“MK,” she had asked it deliberately, smiled when he brightened at the name.  “I’m Long Xiaojiao, but I go by Mei.  What does MK stand for?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Monkey King,” MK told her.  “He’s so cool—I wanna be like him one day.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like a self-fulfilling prophecy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all the craziness of getting MK to become the Monkie Kid, the months after are relatively uneventful.  MK goes off to train with Monkey King some days and stumbles through random Monkey King-power-related problems, like the clones, but there’s not a lot of demon attacks.  They manage to scrape by the ones that do occur, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei realizes, very quickly, that MK is the only one with a weapon that can do real damage against these demons.  That fact settles into her bones and she thrums with discontent.  She doesn’t want MK to be a part of something she can’t be.  She wants to be at his side, able to fight with something special and powerful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It has her trailing to her house, tracing the shapes of the different artifacts, wondering if one could be of use.  If she was smart about it, she could take one for herself, leave a perfect replica in its place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But none of them are good enough.  None, save for the blade, her family’s blade, sitting in its special room.  One that only lets those worthy wield it.  One that only lets someone true to her family line wield it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t touch it.  She knows who she is.  She knows she’s never belonged here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, of course, changes when she has no choice, when it is in her hands and she faces a threat she needs to deal with.  She feels the weighty glares of generations of dragons, all looking upon her with disdain, from the family lineage’s beginning to her parents.  She is a disappointment, but that shouldn’t matter.  Doesn’t matter, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her house is</span>
  <em>
    <span> her</span>
  </em>
  <span> house, and while it may not be as much a home as is the noodle shop in town, it is hers.  And </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> gets to take what is hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she rages against the ancestors that dare her to stumble and—for the first time—she gets to roar.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mei is born a dragon, after all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her parents’ acceptance feels more bitter than kind, rankling her as she heads to bed.  She gets to keep the blade in her room.  They gave her a special pedestal for it and everything, didn’t even comment on how dirty her room was.  It was all smiles and hugs and kindness, things she’d craved for her entire life handed to her on a silver platter, as if all she had to do to get it was ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hates it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why be kind now?  Why accept her only when she can hold the blade?  Why not before?  Why not always?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK, Pigsy, Tang, they never needed anything from her to like her.  They just did.  When she was too wild, when she was too aggressive, when she was loud and when she was quiet, when she was messy and when she was proper.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei doesn’t trust love that comes from when she checks a box that makes her worthy of it.  She leaves the blade behind unless it’s necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even in the second battle against DBK, it isn’t.  Not really.  She doesn’t really use it, too enamored with the Monkey Mech to care that its use has been lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s the universe telling her that though she’s worthy of it, it isn’t worthy of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought makes her smile.  She still keeps the blade close, just in case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They win, again, and she finds MK passed out in the cave, picking him up as gently as she can and getting out before it collapses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She worries, but MK always bounces back.  He seems confused, but a bit of cajoling has him in high spirits and she relaxes.  They saved the day.  They relax, as things settle back into normalcy, as MK goes back to being a noodle delivery boy and she goes back to being a mechanic.  But things don’t go back to normal, not completely, and Mei knows why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is wrong with her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei feels it in the days after their second battle against DBK.  MK is surprisingly brief when it comes to explaining the battle, talking animatedly in the following days about his clone trick and nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK has never been one for brevity, so this is strange.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK sounds mostly like himself, though, and the reconstruction of the town arrests her attention.  She’s a well known mechanic now, so she’s paid to fix the myriad cars wrecked in the battle, as well as salvage any scrap of tech that can be reused to cut down on expenses for the reconstruction.  Their city is pretty wealthy, so they can afford such a reconstruction, but she’s been hearing from her parents that they might raise taxes to create a fund specifically for demon attacks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s heavy duty work.  She collapses in her bed, in the house that was spared damage, every night and passes out before she can think about what could be happening to MK.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time things have seemingly gone back to normal, the biting anxiety that something is wrong has grown.  Every time she meets MK she can feel it, this energy that raises the hairs on the back of her neck.  She thinks that it could be her reacting to MK’s growth in energy levels, considering that he has Monkey King’s powers growing within, but that’s never made her feel like she needs to be on the defense before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter how powerful MK is, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be scared of him.  Not if it’s him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes him out to the arcade, tries to get him to relax and make sense, but there’s a cold look in his eyes and his skin feels like it’s dropped ten degrees.  He starts to pull away, eyes going down to his feet more and more often.  He takes little joking jabs far more personally and makes himself small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders if his parents found him.  She hacks into his phone to check, discreet as ever, and finds nothing.  And maybe it is nothing, these things she’s worrying over.  She doesn’t want to be presumptuous.  She keeps an eye out but she doesn’t see anyone else causing a fuss.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does find a few searches that give her pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why am I so cold?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘How to tell if you’re suffering from hypothermia’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why are my fingers numb’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts to research, compiling theories of what this all could mean.  Looks up Monkey King stories.  As much as everyone knows the general tale, the minutia has been lost to time, so most of the hard information is left to scholars.  That just means she has to hack into a few research paper sites.  She makes a list of demons that could be affecting MK, based on their powerset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembers how little MK talks about his second fight with DBK.  How so much of that fight is unknown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She adds a note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few weeks after that MK falls back into something bright and familiar, and the unease pooling in her gut settles just a little.  They play in arcades and laugh and the equilibrium shifts to something so normal that she nearly forgets.  She doesn’t delete the file, nor does she even move it from her desktop, reminding herself that there could be something on the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She considers bringing it up with Pigsy and Tang, heading to the noodle shop when she is sure MK is out with deliveries.  She has a tracker on him for a reason.  It’s very useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s walking up to the curtain doors when she hears Tang and Pigsy’s conversation.  She could hear their conversation trickle off into silence before Pigsy breaks it with an uneasy question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of the kids….has MK seemed...off to you?” Pigsy’s voice trails out from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you mean?” Tang replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ducks against the wall and listens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid’s been shiftier.  Got quiet for a while, and then came back from it, but never brought up why he was messed up in the first place.  He said he didn’t remember what happened when he defeated DBK.  Something’s off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Tang agrees.  “It’s not good to be assumptive.  MK has a habit of overcompensating when he thinks there’s a problem.  We shouldn’t spook him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy grunts in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we see if Mei has noticed anything?” Tang asks, and Mei almost jumps in, when—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, don’t want to worry her with this stuff.  Besides, we can handle it, can’t we?” Pigsy’s dissent makes her freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something hot and angry and hurt settles in her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It reminds her too much of the dismissive way her parents would keep her from doing anything she held an interest in that wasn’t a good look for their clan.  Too much as if she was some small, dumb child who couldn’t understand anything herself.  She can handle it just as well as they can, but if they don’t want to think that of her, fine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can figure things out on her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, she sneaks toward the ruins of DBK’s old lair.  It’s mostly destroyed, rubble blocking the entrances, but a few well timed slashes with her sword gets her through the top.  Most of it’s debris, nothing to note.  The once well put together lair is nothing but broken metal parts and...wait a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She notices some broken canisters.  They glint in the moonlight, ominous.  The only source of glass she can catch in the room, shattered.  She had seen them on DBK, on the few fleeting glances she got of them.  There was some sort of blue liquid in them, and something else that she could never catch.  It’s all gone now, but she wonders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What were they holding?  What did they need to contain?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs a piece, with a gloved hand, and places it in a ziplock back.  She can try and analyze it later, maybe catch some sort of trace.  This is her best clue amidst the other unrelated garbage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curses herself, once again, for not pressing MK when he’d seemed so out of it after the battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rumbling noise from the mouth of the cave to her left has her jumping up and out of the way of a familiar golden staff.  She hides behind a ledge and watches as MK walks in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air drops twenty degrees, and she bites her lip to keep her teeth from chattering.  There’s a smile on MK’s face that is unfamiliar, pensive, calculating.  The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and send a shiver down her spine, muscles tensing because here isn’t her friend, here is something else, something </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clenches her fists and holds her breath.  She doesn’t know why she’s so afraid, but every inch of her knows that if MK finds her now, it won’t be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks around.  When he lets out a breath, she sees cool, white air pool from his lips.  There’s a flash of blue when he blinks.  She can see frost crawling across the floor, over the walls.  Reinforcing the ceiling, creating a stable structure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did MK have ice powers?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is perfect,” he says, to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilts his head to the side, as if listening to someone.  Then, he nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Now, time to get Yin and Jin!  Carrying them is going to be a challenge,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way his voice sounds…it feels as if he doesn’t even realize he’s talking.  There’s no real tone to it, just empty words that pass his lips without thought.  He hasn’t stopped smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He uses his staff to pogo out of the cave and she ducks away, making herself as small as possible so he won’t see her.  He whips by her, face terribly, awfully blank, and she swears she sees a flicker of something else at his side.  When she’s sure he’s gone, she lets out a breath.  The room is still cold, but nowhere as freezing as it was when he was there.  The tremors in her hands settle.  She grips her sword tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is wrong with her friend.  Something is pretending to be her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mei takes a shaky breath and heads home.  The piece of glass has a trace of energy, but not one she can recognize.  She has the energy signatures of the Demon Bull Family memorized.  This is something different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She adds a note.  Her fingers are slow when she taps the keys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing pretending to be her friend is as cheery as ever when it greets her on their agreed upon meeting day, and he comes out with blue eyes.  Blue, glowing eyes that highlight the sickly look to his skin.  There is the telltale sheen of makeup, but it can’t hide the bags under MK’s eyes, the redness at the corners.  She tries not to startle, tries not to look too scared by it, but the thing pretending to be her friend notices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes,” she murmurs, and she can’t stop the suspicion and concern that colors her voice.  “They’re blue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins, and it’s wide and bright and fake, like someone’s replaced the sun with ice—maybe the same glitter in the light, but with no warmth at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lie slips out of his lips and it’s far too steady to be her friend.  MK can’t lie to save his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she can, so she smiles and pretends to buy it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every game they play is frosted over from the thing’s ice touch, though it seems unintentional.  She can see real frustration on MK’s brow, real confusion when it comes to the issue, and wonders, how much of MK is left?  Is this just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or is her friend still in there behind the sharp blue eyes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever this is, it’s clingy.  She’s hugged more times than she can count, and every time it’s a freezing feeling.  She has to use every inch of self control not to flinch away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On their way out, she trips, and she falls hard enough that she bleeds.  MK helps her up, but his eyes are scanning the room, and she is shocked by the hate that she sees in them.  MK doesn’t hate people, she’s never seen him this angry, but his hand tightens around her arm almost enough to bruise.  Then, his expression clears and he frets over her, finding tissues and helping clean her up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The care, the kindness, that has to be MK.  She doesn’t know if the thing hurting MK could ever replicate MK that much.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go to her favorite restaurant and have a race to end the night.  MK is all smiles, and so is she—at least until she drives off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets home and all but bolts to her room, pulling up her theories documents.  Something is wrong, so wrong it hurts, and she doesn’t know what to do with it.  She scours the internet for something that could explain this.  She’s losing someone of hers, in her family, and the panic makes her breathing quick and short.  Her chest hurts and she swallows fear because she doesn’t have time for it, not when MK has been gone for who knows how long, not when something has taken him from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks about taking her information to Tang, to Pigsy, and remembers their quiet whispers, keeping her out of the loop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart hardens.  She can do this by herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chance to figure things out never comes, because that weekend Pigsy calls her, brings her over, and when she walks into MK’s room she sees his drawings covering the walls all of the same thing.  The town, frozen.  The word perfect scrawled on all of them.  The lines tremble, as if MK drew them with a shaky hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK left his jacket and headband on his desk chair.  His old sketchbook hasn’t even been touched, nearly dusted over.  She flips to the latest entry, and sees a drawing of a beautiful blue skeleton spirit.  When she sees the eyes, the way he drew them, her blood turns to ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They need to find him.  They have to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what the hell this means, but it’s not good,” Pigsy mutters.  “But I don’t know where to find him.  Called the monkey, but he’s taking a minute to get here, and he’s got no clue to where MK’s gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembers the cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know where to go,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes them to the cave hidden beneath the city.  It’s with a quiet air of horror that they find every villain they’ve faced, encased in ice.  She notices Red Son isn’t included.  She wonders what that means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King is already there by the time they arrive.  He sits tense on his cloud, eyes darting around, and Mei wonders if this is the worst he’s seen.  She would be more surprised, more shocked, to see him, if she weren’t so focused on making sure her friend is okay.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though, from the things she sees, she knows he’s not.  That he hasn’t been, for a long time, and she let it go on because she tried to save him on her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more she scans the room, the more horror she feels.  She sees two demons stacked on stop of each other and notes that the ice is polished.  Worn down, to that it’s just enough of a layer to keep them contained.  Their positions look too...cinematic.  Designed.  Did MK move them to be like that?  Can he control their limbs, when they’re encased in ice?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Spider Queen is there, hidden behind other statues, and she wonders if that’s a result of MK’s arachnophobia shining through.  DBK and Princess Iron Fan are being put into place by some clones that MK watches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sees him tilt his head to one side, deliberating.  He points.  They move Princess Iron Fan a smidge.  He gives them a thumbs up and a smile, and they all disappear.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He claps his hands together, and he’s got that giddy look in his eye, like when he got his special Monkey King jacket for his fifteenth birthday.  He’s nearly outgrown it and yet he still always wears it.  Except for now.  It’s been replaced with a bright blue jacket, one with a familiar skull glaring from the back of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallows, opens her mouth, and calls out MK’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve got nowhere to go but down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second time she thinks her friend is dead is here, when MK slams the staff against Monkey King and screams with two voices, and neither one is recognizable.  Tang tells her to go and she runs, too terrified to grieve because something has taken her friend, someone has stolen the sun and she is so, so cold.  She hops on her bike and turns back, finds Pigsy missing.  She turns back to the cave, wide eyed and breathless, and sees Pigsy standing at the mouth, unable to move, eyes locked on the block of ice that used to be Tang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She makes a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her bike roars to life, and she is there in a flash, grabbing Pigsy by the back of his chef’s coat and throwing him on the bike behind her.  He instinctively grabs her shoulders to steady himself and she disappears toward the cave’s exit, ignoring his shouts.  Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her going.  Monkey King appears to throw her motorcycle up to ground level and all she can do is drive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can feel the chill rushing behind her, getting closer and closer.  Her motorcycle suit insulates, but it’s as if the cold can just slice through any warmth.  She shakes, drives faster, but it’s not enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her bike slides out of control and she tumbles.  Her suit, parts of her skin, they scrape off on asphalt and by the time she stops rolling she can’t find the energy to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hears MK talking.  It sounds like MK.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounds so worried, fretting over her like he did when he was 10, 13, when he was him.  She’s on the ground, and the asphalt digs into her skin. Her vision blurs, and she doesn’t understand why he’s so worried.  He should see the other guy.  The other guy hurt MK.  She had to fight him, and that’s why her hand is bloody.  She’d always fight for MK, doesn’t he get that?  She’s fine.  Why is he so scared? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As reality and its false mirage war in her head, some part of her knows she needs to get away, but it’s so confusing, trying to understand that the MK she hears isn’t the one she knows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans as he places a cold hand on her knee, right on a bruise.  It’s too icy to be soothing.  She tries to get up, get away, but then he stops, stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a sec, Mei,” he says, and then everything freezes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can feel the power rolling through the town, and everything gets so, so loud before going eerily silent.  She doesn’t have a chance to look, to see what has been done, because Pigsy picks her up and hides her face in his shoulder, taking a few stumbling steps back, away from the monster she couldn’t have ever imagined in her darkest of nightmares.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy’s breathing is unsteady, but his grip on her doesn’t waver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got you, Xiaojiao, just hold on,” he whispers, but she can hear the tremble in his voice.  He sounds like he’s about to cry.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re lifted up and she’s placed on something soft.  She blinks, and dizzily realizes it’s Monkey King’s cloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>MK is screaming.  The pain in his voice makes her ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The town disappears, they’re flying over the ocean.  Wind whips through her hair, but Pigsy shields her from most of it, clutching her like she’s the last thing he has left.  At this rate, she might be.  She can hear the sound of Monkey King’s clothing billowing in the wind.  She can hear Pigsy’s breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a very quiet ride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They get to the mountain quickly.  Pigsy has her stay on the cloud, tucking her into the pillowy surface as if she was being tucked into bed, brushing hair from her face.  That’s fine, because Mei is tired, and hurt, and doesn’t really want to move.  Monkey King and Pigsy take a few steps away from the cloud, talk in hushed voices, and she can’t hear them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks they’re just going to make a plan, but all they do is argue, voices raised louder and louder.  It sounds angry and hurt, but none of it is helpful, all of it bitter old wounds reopened to hide the largest one, the newest, and she is tired of it before it really starts, pushing herself up with her hands to cut through the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” she screams, even though her voice aches.  “MK’s gone and he took everyone with him!  I don’t wanna hear you two yelling like anything you’re mad about matters!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monkey King looks like she’s slapped him with words, but Pigsy’s eyes bleed sympathy, face a well of compassion she doesn’t want to hear from.  She forces herself onto her feet, jumping off of the cloud and stumbling to steady herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she runs, ignoring the twin shouts of her name from behind her.  She keeps going out of the cave, past the broken wall that looks painted in some parts and past the ruins that almost look like an old palace crumbling and stopping at the mouth of the cave, the waterfall a cloak to the outside world she doesn’t breach.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She drops to her knees and it hurts.  Her clothes are stained and ripped, and she hasn’t exactly stopped bleeding.  She cries into her hands and ignores the weight of her sword on her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why does this always happen to them?  Why didn’t she see it sooner?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid?” Pigsy’s voice calls, gentle, from behind her.  She doesn’t turn around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy comes up beside her anyway, kneeling with a groan next to her, joints popping with the action. She glances his way.  He has a first aid kit in hand.  He takes one of hers, using the water nearby to clean off the scrapes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why,” she tries to say, choking on her words.  “Why didn’t you ask for my help sooner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy stares at her in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told Tang not to include me,” she says, and she watches understanding dawn on Pigsy’s face.  She spits the words, bitter on her tongue. “You could handle it, you said.  Like I couldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid—” Pigsy tries to interrupt, but Mei is angry, and hurt, and bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have helped earlier!” she shouts.  “I could have done something, and maybe MK wouldn’t, maybe we could’ve-and-and MK is gone and we’re stuck here and</span>
  <em>
    <span> you let it happen!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigsy weathers her words, but the last statement seems to hit harder, pointed like a blade that sinks into his sternum and makes him fold in on himself.  His shoulders droop, and his eyes close.  She sees nothing but pain on his face, guilt and pain and regret so potent it makes her throat feel tight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She suddenly remembers that Tang and Sandy didn’t make it out with them.  That MK is Pigsys as much as he’s hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he says, and his voice is hoarse, like talking is painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long had he and Monkey King been yelling at each other?  He continues to clean and wrap her wounds, quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stares at her reflection in the water, not wanting to look at him.  She has bags under her eyes, and they’re puffy and red.  It contrasts the usually-sharp green that looks dull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you could handle it,” Pigsy says, finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He patches up the scrape on her knee and chuckles, voice softening through the cracks.  “I know you’re strong, but you’re young.  You’re twenty, and when you get to my age, anyone under a hundred may as well be a child.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can see him trying so, so hard not to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and MK are just kids.  I didn’t want you to have to deal with more than you already do,” he snorts, derisive. “That worked out well, huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants the earth to swallow her whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re capable,” Pigsy finishes wrapping the last scrape, on her elbow.  “I just didn’t want you to have to be.  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save him.  I’m sorry, I-I just….” He lets the words trail off, eyes sliding shut </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly tackles him in a hug, but Pigsy catches her easily, wrapping her arms around her so gentle it’s startling.  She knows he’s strong, he can lift anyone from MK to Sandy with ease.  But he’s so soft and gentle as he folds her into an embrace, as she chokes on sobs into his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get him back, kid,” he promises.  “You and me and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>ape</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we’ll figure this out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know what to say after that, but it’s okay, because he chuckles and wipes his eyes.  “Don’t tell him I called him that, though.  I’ll never hear the end of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffs out a laugh, eventually, pulling away to wipe her own eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she says.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not a solution, nor does it solve any issue, but Pigsy’s words are as much a salve for her wounds as the wrappings, and she can’t afford to wallow in self-pity.  MK’s been saving the day enough and now he needs to be saved.  And no matter what it takes, she’ll be there.</span>
</p><p><span>For now, though, she lets the tears slip down her face, and lets her scales become skin, lets herself be only twenty years old.  She lets herself mourn a friend she doesn’t know how</span> <span>to save, but she knows she will.  </span></p><p>
  <span>She has to.</span>
</p>
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